The Truth Exposed
by AFallenAngel1221
Summary: Five years has passed since Blossom has seen her two best friends, Berserk and Brick. Now, after all this time, does she decide to come home and try to mend the broken bonds as well as save a fallen love. But with a complication buried within Blossom's past, ultimately threatening her life, can she manage to fix the mess she's made and save what she loves?
1. Chapter 1

My eyes remained closed as I gently tugged on the sleeves of my striped black and white shirt, pulling the hem to my fingers and curling the fabric into my palms. I could feel my eyebrows scrunch together as I tried to slow my accelerating heart, my anxiety levels increasing as I felt the car wheels roll along the gravel road. My legs were bouncing on the floor of the car while I felt my arms begin to tremble, my entire body fidgeting with no sign of stopping.

The car abruptly stopped, sending me forward in my seat before my seatbelt pulled me back, giving me whiplash. The sound of the car gear going into park announced my cue to open my eyes, the bright light from outside the car burning my pupils, red spots dotting my vision.

"Do you want me to come with you?" my father asked.

I turned to look at him in the driver's seat and shook my head, then opened the sunshade and inspected myself in the mirror before unbuckling my seatbelt. My wary soft pink eyes inspected my face carefully, analyzing my pale skin, high cheekbones, and plump lips. My thin fingers then ran themselves through my flimsy, bronze colored hair, shaping it to frame my face and hide the hollows of my cheeks. Not enough makeup in the world could conceal the dark circles under my eyes and the bony structure of my face.

Before exiting the car, I leaned over in my seat and planted a soft kiss on my father's cheek, a sign of reassurance for not only him, but for me as well.

"Are you sure about this? You haven't been here in almost five years, you don't have to do this, let alone by yourself," he said with concern biting his tongue.

"I need to see them, I've been too long without them, without _him_," I replied, my eyes watching his as I reached for the door handle.

The moment the door opened and a flood of warmth enveloped me entirely, I felt my father's hand grasp my wrist, his touch gentle and careful, knowing that I was already as fragile as a piece of glass.

"If you need anything, _anything_, just give me a call and I'll come and pick you up immediately."

"I'll be safe, I promise."

"I know you will, I trust you, but I don't trust him."

A small smile spread on my face, knowing that my father only meant well and wanted to protect me.

"I love you, everything will be okay."

He nodded and released his grip on my wrist, letting me go, giving me more freedom than I could ever ask for.

With one last smile, I escaped the car, shutting the door behind me as I stared up at the enormous house settled atop a hill. The classic red brick and green shutters calmed my heart, the familiarity of the house relaxing me in the tiniest bit. Windows lined nearly every inch of the cozy home, the glass reflecting the happiness on the inside perfectly on the outside, the house radiating warmth and comfort.

Slowly, I turned back to the car and waved at my father, giving him one last grin before he took off down the rest of the street, then turned right and disappeared from my sight. Once he was long gone, my face loosened and the nervousness returned, and I allowed it to swallow the rest of me, the fear of the unknown taking over completely. I didn't know what to expect, not after five years, not when I vanished from their lives, not when I turned bad.

Collecting every ounce of courage within me, I climbed their long and steep driveway, my converse slapping on the pavement the entire way up, their sound echoing in the summer breeze. My long bronze colored hair covered my face, making it hard to see the ground, making it nearly impossible to avoid the cracks in the road. Each step was a struggle, but with the wind, I could feel myself walking even closer to the brink of failure.

I considered just calling my father and asking him to take me home, say that I changed my mind, but I knew that in the future I would regret it. Every single cell in my body trembled in the warm breeze, the feeling of anything touching me now a threat. I had been told so many times within the past few months that I was fragile and that my life hadn't been gentle to me, breaking all the innocence around me into fragments. My parents looked at me now as if I were wounded, shattered. It made me uncomfortable to be around them, knowing that their innocent daughter was gone, and that I was the enemy, the monster inside of me having taken her away and destroying all her remains. She would never come back, and my friends that lived in this house needed to know that, so they wouldn't come looking for her.

Once the driveway ended, I turned right and walked painfully slowly along the sidewalk, the path eventually leading me to their front door. My face began to clam up at the thought of what would happen, what they would say. I had already imagined the worst, the idea of them being non-accepting and telling me to hit the road, but I had hoped for better.

The summer air beckoned me to the door and motivated me to climb the steps to the doors, to ring the doorbell. It was the first time in a while that something so warm and calming would be on my side; I had been in the dark for too long. Grateful for it's guidance, I rung the doorbell and waited, my fingers constantly fiddling as I rocked on my heels. Impatience quickly took ahold of me, and I began to turn and walk away, believing that they weren't home. They weren't expecting me.

With my shoulders hunched and my throat beginning to tighten as I forced down the sobs, I began to walk back down the steps. My converse touched the sidewalk once again, and then I heard the thundering of footsteps on the opposite side of the door. I couldn't see their face in the cloudy window, but I guessed it was Berserk, my friend. The moment I turned back around and stepped back up to the door, I found her leaning against the doorway, a stunned expression resting on her face. A thousand incoherent thoughts passed between us, her mouth now agape, as she took in my disfigured form, probably unable to form a logical explanation as to who I was or why I was here.

"Hey Berserk, it's me, Blossom," I said in a muffled whisper.

Her red eyes widened, the whiteness now bulging in shock. I must have looked really different since the last time she saw me, I didn't blame her, everyday I see myself and I can't recognize the girl looking back at me.

"It's been so long. Why didn't you tell me you were-" she began to ask before I cut her off.

"I didn't want you to panic, I didn't even know if I would stop by."

"I can't believe you're here, it's been years since I've seen you," she said, her face now scrunched as tears threatened to spill over the rims of her eyes.

Before I could give any thought to what I would say next, she pulled me into a tight embrace, burying her face into the crook of my shoulder. I obliged and relaxed, wrapping my arms comfortingly around her, feeling every shudder of her body as she wept. I felt guilty for her pain, knowing she shouldn't have held onto me after all this time, we both knew she deserved a better friend than me. There were several complications in our relationship, but many more happy moments. That's what I wanted to believe, but every problem between us revolved around my life. I had fucked up everything between us, and she refused to accept that I was to blame, instead saying that we all made mistakes. But the reality of our situation, I never learnt from them.

"I'm here, I've missed you so much," I said while nestling my face into her shirt.

"I've missed you more, you're one of my best friends."

I gently tried to pull away, but was unsuccessful since she was holding onto me with a death grip, afraid that I would disappear like smoke. To her credit, the last time she let go, I did. But with smoke means fire, and some fires are never put out, no matter the cost.

Only she wasn't the fire, _he_ was.

Berserk eventually released me, and used her hands to wipe her eyes, her mascara now smeared on her cheeks and fingers. I stifled a laugh while she snorted, then blushed from embarrassment. In previous years, she was always so confident and very rarely ever cried. I, on the other hand, was the one who broke down into tears and begged for a shoulder to cry on, and she was always there.

We had switched roles, at long last, but she had good reason to cry now, whereas I did not. While I knew she was thrilled to see me, she hadn't cried for happiness, but for relief. When she had hugged me, I could feel her tears slide onto my porcelain skin and down my bony back. She didn't have to be a scientist to know what was going on, and she had known the truth from halfway across the world. But _he_ didn't, and I knew that while I was here, he would find out.

The creaking of floorboards above us brought my attention to the stairs, which framed the foyer and left the second floor exposed, the staircase wrapped around the room like a snake. A large chandelier hung from the ceiling and connected the sky to the earth, candles lit inside the mass of metal and wood. Another creak sounded from the second floor, and a figure slowly emerged from the shadows. His flawless face emerged from the darkness, his messy red hair nearly covering his smoldering crimson eyes. I followed the length of his narrow nose down to his full lips, which parted at the raw sight of me.

_Brick_


	2. Chapter 2

_God, she looked so different. _

Her hair fell in layers of beautiful bronze tendrils, surrounding her pale face and framing it's perfection. From the second floor, I could gaze into her mesmerizing shell-pink eyes, and get lost in them forever. She watched me in a frozen form; the only things moving were her chest and her voluptuous lips, which opened as she whispered my name to herself.

I moved quickly to the stairs, then forced myself to descend them naturally and evenly paced. Unlike my feet, my heart was galloping out of my chest, and screamed at me to run to her, to embrace her and kiss every inch of her, proof that she was really standing in our foyer. Once I reached the hardwood floor, however, my heart stopped beating entirely.

Now that I was only a few feet away from Blossom, I could see every missed detail from before, and I wished I hadn't. While her eyes were beautiful and sent me into another dizzying world, I could see rings of black beneath her eyes. This provided enough evidence for me to assume that she had had many sleepless nights. Her cheeks were extremely hollow and left ghostly looking bruises along the bone lines, her face looking sad and empty. All the life remained in her eyes, which had never faded over the past five years she had gone missing from our lives.

"Blossom, it's been forever," I said, taking a few steps closer to her.

She didn't say anything, but kept her eyes glued to mine.

"I've missed you so much."

My body was only inches from hers, her body so small and petite as I towered over her. Her pink eyes bore into mine, watching every move I made intently. Her trance was inescapable, and before I could stop myself, I wrapped my arms around her in a tight embrace. She seemed shocked for a moment, and then leaned into my chest, burying her head into my shirt as she folded her arms between our two bodies. As surprised as she seemed to be, I was even more taken aback. I had never touched her before, ever, in any way, and to wrap my arms around her felt comforting, warm, and right. When I pulled her in even closer, my hands now completely wrapped around her torso, I felt her stiffen, my fingers at her hipbones. Now that we were closer, I could feel her chest and stomach, but what scared me on so many levels was the fact that I could feel her ribcage. She must've felt my body tense, since she quickly pulled away, tucking her now noticeably tiny arms into her chest.

"Let's go talk," Berserk quickly said, pulling Blossom with her towards the living room.

Blossom nodded and walked behind my twin sister, without so much as even a second glance. I couldn't help but stare, I didn't know if it was out of wonder or worry, perhaps both, I decided.

As badly as I wanted to eavesdrop on the two of them, I needed some time to think, about her, about the situation, about us. It was only a matter of time before she told me everything. I hoped. Taking the stairs two steps at a time, I thought about her face, her silhouette, like a ghost in broad daylight. I stalked down the hallway to my room and locked the door. The world was spinning so fast I couldn't decipher the ceiling from the floor. Thankfully, when I couldn't stand upright anymore, I collapsed onto my bed, my room slowly coming back into focus. This was too much; she had too much. As in, she deserves better than the shitty life she has been given.

Over the past five years, we have only spoken three or four times, an occasional text message with a reply only a month later. Eventually I just gave up on communicating. But no matter how hard I tried to forget about her, I couldn't bring myself to do it. Our friendship had survived miraculously over the years, if that was even what we were now.

This situation we were in, this everlasting lie, both of us keeping secrets, I couldn't tell what we were. It was apparent that something was wrong, otherwise, why would she appear randomly on our doorstep? It just didn't make sense, everything was all wrong.

But what I couldn't wrap my mind around was the fact that she looked so broken, so empty. She had told me so many things through that nearly unrecognizable hug alone, but I couldn't make sense of it. She came here to see us, but why now? What happened to the girl I had begun to care about?


	3. Chapter 3

Berserk and I sat on the brown, comfy couch together, her eyes locked on me as her lips were set in a thin line. She looked so serious and frightening, but I could see the worry in her eyes. Her red eyes were now iced over and glassy, like the wintery frost that I had come to miss. I tried to avoid her stare, but it was hopeless, she wouldn't let me go again, not when I had lied to her before.

"Is it bad, Blossom?"

I didn't say anything, but simply nodded, wanting to keep this conversation to a minimum. News travels fast, and I didn't need Brick to know everything just yet, he needed some time to adjust to my presence alone, for me to even be in their house.

"Why didn't you tell me? I had to figure it out over social media, through poetry that you posted. Through people you followed," she said, clearly disappointed and upset.

"Does Brick know?" I asked, considering his knowledge more important than my current condition.

"No, I don't think so. He's rarely ever on Instagram," she said.

I breathed out a sigh of relief. He couldn't see what I had posted; thank the lord he didn't venture onto my page often.

"Are you going to tell him?" she asked.

I shook my head, a definite no. It was already bad enough for him to know that I had a huge crush on him, but for him to know how weak and sick I really was, that was a different story. I wasn't willing to tell him more than he needed to hear, he didn't care about me that deeply anyways, we were only friends. But why did I feel like this was more important than I had made it out to be?

"Blossom, I know you just got here, but I need answers. I'm really worried about you," Berserk said.

"There isn't enough time to tell you everything, I'm not ready, and I have to go soon. My family is expecting me back by dinner at the hotel, and then tomorrow morning we leave for New York," I revealed, my tone level.

"You have to leave for New York, _tomorrow_? You mean to say that you're only staying in Virginia for a day?" she asked skeptically.

I nodded, and then turned away, sad at how little time we had left together.

"We flew from Singapore to Virginia for one purpose, for me to say goodbye. They know everything that has happened, over Instagram and real life, and think that seeing you two will only make the situation more complicated, but know that you mean a lot to me. When I say farewell, we are driving to New York for my dad's business trip, and while he is working, the rest of my family will be cooped up in a hotel for a week," I said, out of breath.

"They know everything?" she asked, a stunned expression on her face.

I nodded and said, "that's why they allowed me to see you, because they thought that seeing you one last time would help me feel better and remember all the good times I had before I got bad, before I got worse."

We sat in silence for a few more moments before she leaned in and whispered, "were you bad when we met you?"

"Not this bad, but yes, I was already beginning to lose myself."

She pulled away from me and cradled her head in her hands as she gasped, then began to whimper. It wasn't her fault that I was this way, it was mine, and even though she knew it, she didn't want to accept it, because we both knew that it was only partially true.

"Why did you lie to me?"

I moved closer to her, the couch sinking under our weight as I pulled her into my arms. She was close to sobbing now, her throat tightening and constricting while she wailed.

"I didn't think I was lying at the time. I thought I was protecting you from the truth, because I thought I could handle this by myself, and I thought I could endure the pain alone," I responded, holding back the tears.

I refused to cry, I had promised myself that I wouldn't ever since I said goodbye.

"You don't have to be alone, I'm your friend, Brick's your friend, we all are."

"I know, it's too late to be alone," I whispered, now antagonized over her tormented pain and sadness that she only felt because of me and because of the secrets I had kept from her.

My phone vibrated at my side, a message from my mother appearing on the screen. _Expecting you at dinner in an hour. Need a lift?_ Only then did I realize how late it had gotten.

"Shit, my mom is going to kill me if I'm late," I said as I stood from the couch, then turned to face Berserk, "I have to go."

Berserk then stood up from the couch and paced across the room until she was just inches from my face.

"You aren't going anywhere, not until we sort you out," she said, her voice stern and direct.

For a moment, I was scared and grew still, but I realized that I still needed to answer my mother and get going back to the hotel. When I backed away from Berserk and started texting a reply to my mother, I felt another hand grasp my phone and take it out of my looked almost sinister as she dialed a number into my phone, and then put it to her ear, a familiar woman's voice picking up at the other end of the line.

"Hello, this is Berserk, and I was wondering if I could adjust your schedule for this week?" she began and before I knew it, my friend had disappeared from the room, leaving me to sit on the couch and stare off into space.

There was no point in arguing with her now; it was too late for that. Berserk could be very persuasive at times, and I could tell from the tone of her voice, that now was one of those times. As much as I wanted to hate her for invading my family plans and weeklong schedule, I couldn't help but feel grateful. The last thing I wanted was to spend this week in an old rusty hotel with my mother and sister, receiving sickened and distasteful looks from my mother, and concerned, pained expressions from my younger sisters, Bubbles and Buttercup.

The frustration took over me and I fell back onto the couch, my body making the cushions dip below the sofa, and cause an eruption of groans in protest against my weight. I was too tired to care though, I just thought about the past few weeks, how they had gone from bad to worse to chronic to death. And right now, dealing with my family would be living hell, since they already knew I was there. They pretended to care, but they were past that point and just wanted me to be gone, to disappear. They put on a good show when they're around me, but I know what they're really thinking. _She's got so much to be happy about, so little to be sad about. She's ungrateful and selfish, to want to leave us, in _that_ way. _

As I lay on the couch, these thoughts swimming in my head, I ran my fingers up and down my stomach, relishing at the small amount of food that I had eaten in the past few days. Another reason why I didn't want to go home, because I knew that they would be shoving food down my throat, or performing any apparent valiant act to _save_ my soul. But what if I didn't want to be saved, because I knew it was already too late. I had a reason to want to do this alone, because I had come to say my final farewell, and to welcome hell with open arms.

I closed my eyes and focused on the red spots now appearing from the light entering through the windows of the room. It was all I wanted to see now, nothing else, not the lavish furnishings, not the green trees shaking in the wind. I didn't want to find another reason to want more, to be more, to be perfect. I didn't need another reason to be jealous. But then, I opened my eyes to the sound of footsteps, and bolted upright as I carefully searched my surroundings. When I found nothing, I relaxed the slightest bit, but I had felt a pair of devilish eyes watch me from behind my back.

* * *

><p>About two hours later, my mother and father had stopped by the house to drop off my suitcase. When I had come out to meet them by the car and say goodbye for an entire week, they only embraced me, saying nothing, being gentle with me as if I were glass. In their eyes, I was already broken, unable to be pieced back together, and I believed them.<p>

Berserk had, using her extraordinary persuasive skills, convinced my parents to let me stay the entire week that they were in New York. She told me that they didn't like the idea at first, but she convinced them that being around friends was the only thing that could help me right now, and they agreed to it almost immediately.

Once my parents left, Berserk and I carried my suitcases to her room, hauling them over to the closet, where they would be stored during my weeklong stay. The moment I had packed away my things into the closet, I turned to find her sitting on her bed, watching me with a look of doubt.

"This will be a lot harder if you don't cooperate, but it can be easy to get over with if you don't fight it."

She didn't have to go any further into depth; I knew what she was going to say.

"What's for dinner?" I asked, my voice monotone as we shared a look of reliance.

By the time we made our way down to the kitchen, my heart was already pumping freezing cold blood through my veins, turning my skin to ice and sending a chill down my spine. The twin's parents had left for a two weeklong vacation in Aruba, leaving us fifteen year olds alone in the house, believing that we were responsible enough to be by ourselves. _They thought wrong; I'm here._

Berserk, at the age of fifteen, was already an expert cook. Even at the age of ten, she enjoyed being in the kitchen. The last sleepover we shared together before I left for five years, we had made rainbow waffles for breakfast, which turned out to be rather decent, which shocked us all. She enjoyed experimenting with new things and perfecting family recipes, but to her, it was natural, to let life flow without any control. I, however, needed that control.

When Berserk began to cook the three of us some dinner, I evaded the kitchen and trudged upstairs, needing to avoid as many temptations as possible. As I headed to her room on the left end of the hall, I glanced to the right and found Brick's door shut. Quietly, I pressed my ear to the door and listened, but found the room absolutely silent. Placing my hand on the wooden door, I felt a surge of color invade my mind, recalling a long lost memory from years ago.

_** 11:58 PM, great. Now what do I do? I can't run from this, there is no escape.** I refolded the paper slip I had written on hours ago, twisting it and bending it into a coil. My hands were shaking so much, my mind jumbled as I thought of the outcome of this, what could happen. I had only two minutes left before midnight, before my time was up. I had been procrastinating all night long and now was the time to tell him. Berserk had given me until midnight to tell him that I had a serious crush on him, and I knew that there was no way out of it; she wouldn't let me escape._

_I felt a hand on my shoulder, and slowly turned, knowing that it was Berserk, knowing that she knew how scared I must have been. Brick and I had been friends for so long, the best of friends, and this single note could change all of that. The note. I had planned on slipping it beneath his door while he slept, not bold enough to tell him face to face, I was too weak and scared of being rejected right there on the spot._

_She gave me a smile that reassured me in the slightest bit, and nudged me toward the stairs, then motioned for me to climb them. With my hands shaky, I grasped the railing and climbed, each step filling my feat with lead, the weight pulling me down and sending a message to turn back and run. But it was impossible; Berserk blocked the way._

_I tiptoed along the hallway, slowing once I got to his room, then quickly bent down and slid the note beneath his door. Once I made sure the paper was completely inside his room, I took off down the hallway and stairs, running to the living room and leaping onto the couch, crying into my knees since I knew that I had just made a terrible mistake._

_And I did. The next morning, I awoke on the pullout couch in the living room, tears staining my cheeks. I went upstairs and sat in Berserk's room across from his, finding Brick's door wide open. I didn't approach him, but instead settled down in front of my computer and watched a movie. It wasn't until halfway through, I realized, that he hadn't read the letter yet, since I watched him in my peripheral vision pick up that slip of paper, and shut the door in my face. I tried not to let it get to me, I should have expected it, and prepared myself for it, but all my life, doors had been shut in my face, by everyone but my friends. And here I was; being shut out by my very best friend, Brick._

At last, the memory faded, and from exhaustion, I rested my head on his door, and slipped to my knees. The great burst of color from the memory has strained the life around me now, turning everything a dull shade. I missed the color in my life, when I had choices and stories to tell, but now, there was only black, white, and gray. The very best of life was colorful, but like all good things, they must come to an end.

"Blossom! Brick! Dinner's ready," Berserk shouted from the kitchen.

Startled, I stood up and knocked on Brick's door, hoping that I wouldn't have to enter his room. It was already awkward enough to spend a week here with him; I didn't want to have to invade what was left of his personal space. Unfortunately, I heard no movement.

"Brick, dinner's ready," I yelled at the door, finding it just as hopeless as knocking.

I groaned, and then turned the knob of his door, the hinges squeaking and revealing a boy that I had come to know and love laying passed out on his bed. At first, I jumped back in shock; afraid that he was dead, but relaxed when I saw that he was breathing. Carelessly, I shuffled into his room, taking note of the walls and furniture, willing myself to remember the photos of him as a child, when he was young and didn't understand the world through my eyes.

Just when I was about three feet from his bed, I tripped over something and caught myself using the help of his mattress, saving myself from a trip to the hospital, which was the last thing that I needed. Wanting to find what I had tripped over, I knelt down and picked up a bottle of pills, finding the prescription to be used for major headaches. _Great, he's out cold. _

As quickly as I had entered his room, I left it, returning with a cup of ice water. I knew he would probably hate me for the rest of the night, but he needed to get up. I wasn't going to eat dinner with Berserk all by myself; I refused. Bracing myself, I dumped the ice water on his head, sending Brick through the air as he blindly tried to attack me. He had me pushed up against a wall, his hands wrapped around my throat as I fought for oxygen, pushing on his chest and trying to scream. His eyes were open, a crazed look burning behind his irises, and I grew scared. It took a few seconds, but I watched them refocus _on me_, and he released me.

"Blossom… I didn't mean to hurt you," he hesitated, staring at his hands with a mortified expression.

I remained silent, my heart in my throat as I held back the bile in my mouth.

"It's the sleeping pills, they disorient me and can confuse me. I'm really sorry."

Slowly, I nodded, but yelped in pain at the movement of my neck. Quickly, I left his room and rushed to the bathroom, wanting to see the damage done. Even at a glance, the mirror reflected a pair of red hands choking my throat, and I knew that they'd bruise.

"Oh God, what have I done? Are you okay, Blossom?" Brick asked, now standing in the frame of the door, his face scared and for the first time I had ever seen, concerned.

I was entitled to my own opinion, and in this case, I knew it had been my fault, and it was an accident. I turned to face him completely, wanting him to know that it was okay.

"I'm fine, don't worry about me. You just scared me."

"Are you sure you're okay?"

I nodded and managed to give him a small smile. I was expecting one in return, but instead I received a tight embrace, his chin resting lightly on my head.

"I swear, it won't happen again."

He held me in silence for what seems like a long time, but not long enough. I wanted more of him, I wanted everything, but he was someone I could never have, and he had made that clear five years ago.

While I was tortured from his mixed signals, I knew that Berserk would come looking for us, and decided to break away, heading down the stairs to dinner. She had made waffles for us, the plain kind, and as hard as I tried to eat, it felt like I was eating cement, which dried in my throat where his hands had suffocated me.


	4. Chapter 4

I couldn't help but stare at Blossom as she choked down her dinner, every bite smaller and slower than the last. It was painful to watch as she played with her food, cutting them into tiny chunks, and nibbling on each of them as if they were poison.

When we were younger, at the age of nine, I remembered having to take away her food, forcing her to stop from getting a fourth helping. Blossom, as I could recall, loved food, and had sworn that she would never give it up. At the time, when we were only kids, she was considered on the heavier side, and I admired her acceptance of herself, when others didn't.

She had told me once, before she left, that in school, kids made fun of her for her weight, her appearance, and her personality. _Everything_, she had said. Whenever I saw her around school, it was early in the morning, when she carried a tired face and trudged through the halls, almost as if she didn't care. I never saw her in the afternoons, no matter how hard I tried to spot her face in the crowd. She was invisible, to everyone, even her friends. She had kept secrets, and still was, which was hurting her. Blossom was a mystery, the girl who hid behind her black sweaters, who had cut off her hair, and had turned away from her friends, making food the enemy, and I had no solid explanation as to why. I was determined to find out. To see her make everything toxic, life-threatening, it scared me, and I knew it probably scared her.

"You should probably eat some more," Berserk said, a serious face worn as she watched Blossom jab her fork into the chunks of waffle.

Blossom perked up, shoveled three more pieces of food into her mouth, guzzled a glass of water, and left the table. I was speechless at her sudden unfriendliness, and turned to Berserk for answers. She simply shrugged, then continued to eat her dinner, keeping her guilty eyes on her plate.

"When are you going to tell me what the hell is going on?" I asked, rage tinting my voice.

"What are you talking about?" she asked, sitting upright and patting her mouth dry with a napkin.

"There's something wrong with Blossom, and you won't tell me what. I want answers, now."

I was taken aback at my sudden aggressiveness, especially to my sister.

"I want answers too, but Blossom needs time," Berserk explained, keeping her tone relatively stable unlike mine.

"We don't have time. The longer we wait, the worse she gets, I know she's sick, I just don't know how bad or why."

"You know she's sick?" Berserk asked, bewildered.

"She's depressed, we both know that. And we also both know that while she was gone, she got worse and turned suicidal," I yelled, stunned at my naïve sister's reply.

"You don't know bull, there are other things going on that you have no idea about," she argued, her voice rising.

"Like what? Tell me what's going on," I said, my words like ice.

Berserk fell silent, leaving the room completely quiet.

"Tell me, I want to know, I want to help her."

She looked at me in the eyes, her lip quivering. All her defenses were down, but I could see her trying to fight back the tears. She wouldn't break; she was stronger than I could ever be, bolder than I ever was.

"Brick, I want to tell you, but it's not my place. If you want to know, ask her yourself, or better yet, use your head and put the pieces together," she said, getting up from the table and stalking out of the room.

I turned away, all my energy to fight now lost, as I felt a tidal wave of emotions trample me entirely, leaving me feeling deflated and tired.

"Just for the record, I always knew that you were smart. You get straight A's in every class, and you have the mind of a genius. But when it comes to girls, forget your ego and use common sense. There doesn't have to be reasons, there's usually a story. So please, for once, for Blossom, do the right thing. We both know she did the right thing all those years ago, when she told you that she liked you and promised to let you go."

"Are you pinning her problems on me? Are you saying that I did this to her?" I said, shocked at her accusation.

"She loved you."

"You can't love somebody at that young, not when you're ten," I reasoned, the letter resurfacing in my mind, her script, her words, all of it was real.

"She loved you, and you turned her away. She lost her best friend, and you don't think this is part of the reason as to why?" Berserk said, a pained look on her face.

"That day, I lost my best friend too, I knew we would never be the same. I thought I was protecting her, our relationship," I whispered, tears clinging to my eyes.

"You did what you thought was best for _you_, you were to scared to admit the truth. You and I both know that you care about her, and more than just a friend," she said, her face now stripped of any happiness, all her compassion showing through her tears.

"That's a lie," I said through my teeth, my voice like nails on a chalkboard.

"If it's such a lie, then why are you here right now, why are we arguing? You're fighting for her, but you're too scared to admit it," she cried.

I remained silent, keeping my breathing as evenly paced as possible, but I could hear the uneven drags of air, the oxygen clawing at my throat, this conversation a living hell.

"God Brick, you are such an idiot. You need to tell her the truth, you need to tell her that you love her, you have to finish what she started five years ago."

"Why should I?" I asked, my eyes like knives as I glared at Berserk.

"Because even though she's trying to move on, she's dying inside, waiting for you to tell her your answer. After all these years, she has waited to let go, but with you constantly running after her and then walking away, she has learnt to hold on. Because even though she deserves better, we both know that at some point, better won't be an option. So tell her the truth, apologize, anything to acknowledge that you care and it's one step in the right direction. She's come to say goodbye, and this is your last chance to fix the mistake you made years ago, to mend the friendship that you fucked up because you're scared," Berserk whispered, then turned and walked away, not bothering to give a second glance.

"I'm scared, I'm so scared that it's too late, that you have already moved on," I whispered to myself, but I knew that it wasn't true; she was still waiting for my answer.

Getting up from the table, I walked upstairs and turned to face Berserk's door, preparing to knock, preparing for the truth. About an inch from the wooden door, my hand froze, and I turned and escaped to the privacy of my room, letting the air conditioning fill my lungs and calm my racing heart. _What have I done?_

I thought back to the moment that Blossom and I had shared before dinner, when I had accidently attempted to strangle her. While she was eating, I had noticed how prominent my finger marks were, how deep my fingernails had cut into her skin. My stomach twisted in disgust, _what have I done to you_?

I lay back on my bed, absorbing the whiteness of my ceiling as I had earlier before I passed out. The blankets were still soaked from where the ice water had been dumped on my head, the second before I nearly killed Blossom. She had looked like the devil from my dreams, a demon coming to scorch my soul and burn me in hell. But when I touched her, my vision began to clear and I saw her for what she really was, an angel, something so precious and pure, and something that I wanted to protect.

Reaching for my phone on my bedside table, I opened Instagram and searched through my followers until I found her page. I had only visited her page a few times, never really bothering to read her poetry. It never occurred to me to read her life; it seemed invasive. In the past, however, I had read one poem and panicked, finding her poetry very dark and dementing. The moment I finished reading, I texted her immediately and asked what the hell was going on.

_Three years ago…_

**Me:**

Are you cutting yourself again?

Because your poems on Instagram are very dark

**Blossom:**

you just realized that.

wow, all of the sudden, you decide to ask.

**Me:**

Well you didn't do it while you were in the US

**Blossom:**

yeah i did

a lot

you just never knew

or never bothered to ask

i actually did it more there than here

**Me:**

Why would you never tell us!?

**Blossom:**

Berserk knew

and i didn't want you to know

**Me:**

well then

it's 11:40 on Sunday night, you need sleep

**Blossom:**

nope. can't sleep even if i tried, legit. i am so nervous. seeing the counselor tomorrow first thing, and i am having a panic attack

**Me:**

Use makeup to cover up your scars, they may ask to look at them

**Blossom:**

but they know. my parents know. I've lied to them twice about it, over the summer and on Thursday last week. they saw my email to one of my best friends and interrogated me for two whole hours. they know, and they actually told me to pack a bag so they could take me to a hotel, in case i decided to jump off our building

they called the counselor and told her to start seeing me.

i am so nervous that they'll ask to see them, i just cut like two weeks ago.

**Me:**

Oh wow

**Blossom:**

I'm fucked up in the head, but its getting better.

but my parents didn't know anything until that email, and then they knew everything. what sucks is what they told me, that i shouldn't be depressed because I'm like everybody else, ordinary. that i have no good reasons behind it. and that i have to get over my problems, to suck it up and move on.

and they are like, you come home and are singing and smiling and laughing. you aren't depressed. and I'm thinking, why would i make it so obvious around you, then you would make me stop

but another thing they told me, "if you continue to hurt yourself, we're leaving this country so you can get help in the states. we can send you to rehab and get you a therapist. life's too stressful here." but at home in the states, that's where things got out of control and they didn't even know

**Me:**

Wouldn't that mean you would come back sooner?

**Blossom:**

but not in the way i wanted to, and i can't leave yet. i really don't want to be bullied again. not when I'm still trying to recover

**Me:**

And you're not going to get bullied

By who?

**Blossom:**

i was bullied there, especially in fifth grade, you just did not know. Berserk didn't know

i was bullied by people, everybody

**Me:**

Who? I'll beat them to a pulp

**Blossom:**

you never knew what went on outside of the classroom. do you remember how i cut my hair over the summer?

i didn't know until later on that it was a sign of suicide. i wanted to control something. when my dad came home from Afghanistan, the pressure was built back up in my house, and it began to stress me out, to be that perfect little girl that he thought i was, with the good grades, being confident.

to be innocent

so i cut my hair, to control something.

and people didn't know why, but had good guesses.

later on, they knew i was depressed, and knew i cut. like how i wore sweatshirts everyday, to hide the scratches on my wrists

** Me:**

No but you wore dresses sometimes

**Blossom:**

those were the days when my arms were clear

the scratches never lasted, only later on did my deeper cuts last and scar, and sometimes bleed

**Me:**

Of course it resulted in blood!

You're cutting yourself

And you need to stop!

**Blossom:**

no shit...i know. but that's the problem. i want to stop, but i can't. I've thrown my razors away, but i end up using my fingernails when I'm anxious, or have a breakdown.

so of course, all of this led up to suicide. i never attempted, but i considered it often.

**Me:**

Blossom I'm trying to be supportive and I think the best way is with the help of a counselor

**Blossom:**

i fucking hate counselors. but i have no choice

** Me:**

They are for your own good

**Blossom:**

yeah, but with the bullying, i have major trust issues. my best friend, the one I've known since i was two, it's taken me three fucking years to tell her all this

like when my parents interrogated me, i didn't say a word for about an hour, until they started breaking me down

and they're my parents!

**Me:**

Because they are trying to help you

**Blossom:**

i know, but with my dad, he revolves around his work and himself. it sickens me

**Me:**

Blossom you're not thinking straight

You need to sleep

**Blossom:**

my mom was in tears, and tried to make me understand, but it just bothers me how she cries over something she doesn't understand. i know they love me, but i can't wait to get out of here

**Me:**

You will feel better in the morning

**Blossom:**

sleep doesn't help. and if anything I'll feel worse, counselor tomorrow. besides, I've been getting 2-3 hours a night for the past three weeks. i go to bed at 11 or 12, and stay awake for like 3 fucking hours.

**Me:**

That's part of the problem

**Blossom:**

its my head, i think too much

**Me:**

Your sleep deprived so everything seems worse

**Blossom:**

i know, but being sleep deprived is the least of my problems.

**Me:**

Then start one step at a time

**Blossom:**

it isn't the source, i know that for sure

did you know that i haven't spoken to anyone this past week, because i've been in the locker room having breakdowns. that i go to the library during lunch because i can't eat anymore, i just throw it up because I'm so nervous about everything. did you know that when i get home, i have hw to do until i go to sleep. i see my family for a whole thirty minutes, and then poof, its like i disappear from their lives

and people here act like they know me, but they don't. the people that know I'm depressed, they act like its nothing. but they don't bother me, its myself. because doing my best is never perfect. i have never had a grade lower than an A on my report card, but guess what? i have 3 B's this semester, and all because i'm losing it, my head. I'm like being brainwashed

**Me:**

Blossom how many real friends that you can trust do you have there?

**Blossom:**

…none

**Me:**

That's the problem

You need to find someone and build a strong relationship before you tell them anything about your past

**Blossom:**

but i don't tell them, they figure it out and ask me

because I'm always quiet, i listen to music, and whenever i say anything, i act like a bitch, the way i am now to you, going off about nothing

**Me:**

No you are acting like the world is falling apart. What you need is to get a bigger perspective

Imagine you're staring at the globe

You can't see yourself but you know you and your problems are there

Then think about your problems compared to the earth

Think about how there are huge problems that are happening and you're not part of it. Realize how lucky you are to just be alive

**Blossom:**

oh yeah i have before. that's why i hate myself, because compared to some people, my problems are something they'd die for. my parents aren't abusive, i don't do drugs, my grades aren't low. i am irrational about normal things as my parents say. that's why i hate myself so much, because i think my problems are the world's problems

**Me:**

Then if you can realize that, then you're already half way there.

To me it seems like you feel alone

**Blossom:**

and i don't think I'm lucky to be alive, i'd rather me dead sometimes. the only thing keeping me here is you

the thing is, I've been handing this for a long time, and only now i decide to lose control. why now?

**Me:**

Ok you need to sleep now

It's 12:30

Tomorrow is a big day

And remember to tell the truth

**Blossom:**

i couldn't give a fuck, and there is no way in hell i am just opening up to someone i don't even know

it takes so much courage, and it's pretty much all gone

**Me:**

I just hope you will make the correct decision when you're there

I can't help you if you're not willing to help yourself

**Blossom:**

not likely.

yeah i know. i have to save myself, blah blah blah, I've been doing it for the past few years. if i can't do it, what's the point of getting someone else to do it when only i can save myself.

I've been told, because it's okay to ask for help, you don't have to be alone. sorry, what if i don't want to be helped. I'd sometimes rather just die to save people the trouble.

I'm not going to, because then I'd be selfish.

how do you see me now?

**Me:**

I feel like you are lost, and with the correct guidance, you will be better

**Blossom:**

i feel so empty right now. like the life was just sucked out of me

glass, i feel like God is carrying me, a glass vase, and he is trying to get me somewhere, to plant flowers into my soul so i can grow, but the water within is too murky and dirty and sinful, killing any breath of life he hopes to nurture

going to bed now, or lay here at least.

**Me:**

Okay and just remember everything will be better soon. You always need to have horrible times in order to get the best days of your life

**Blossom:**

maybe...maybe

always an if, life is never set in stone

**Me:**

If it isn't set in stone Then you can always make it better

_Why didn't I help her sooner? _Of course, Blossom did go to the counselor and told her everything, probably more things than she told me. At the time, I was glad that she was on the road to recovery, but now, I could see that all she really needed was a friend to talk to, to give her strength. If I had been there the day after she talked to the counselor, to offer her a shoulder to cry on, to comfort, maybe she wouldn't be this bad now.

Her Instagram page was filled with enchanted words spun together with her open poetic license, bending their meanings, and hiding secrets within each line. I was never really into poetry, so reading in between the lines was difficult, but I managed.

_Torn by breath, lost by blood, your whispers soft in my ears / A pair of hands tangling around my waist, a body pressing me against a wall, a jolt of electric shock between our chemistry / Your eyes as mesmerizing as the stars, your nails leaving crescent moons on my flesh / Your kisses forced upon my castle you call lips, your tongue roaming my mouth and breaking down my walls / And I whimpered, but not in pain, in desire / Mu kingdom has fallen and you claimed my land yours /_

_{i'm not who you think I am}_

I scrolled through her feed until I found another, and was quickly absorbed into her writing.

_Your eyes scorched my body and filled my heart with flames, all of it went up in smoke as you quenched the fiery blaze of someone else / I needed the feathery touch of your fingers to linger on my skin, but instead your nails ripped my soul to pieces and left the crimson evidence decorating my hips / Hands were held and sewn together with the tiniest friendship bracelet, benefits as hard as bones and delicate as wings given and received among the tombstones of ana / I wanted you to stay by my side, but when I woke you were gone /_

_{you were my friend without the benefits}_

I held back a gasp of pain, now understanding and unfolding the secrets she had kept from me, her reasons for hiding, and her story that she had buried along with her past for so long, and the ache in my chest burned through my skin, hell collecting me and drowning me in her writing. I continued to scroll through her posts, until I came across a newer one, finding it different from all the rest.

_SHE LOOKED IN THE MIRROR AND GRIMACED, HER BODY SLIM AND FRAGILE, HER BODY DECORATED IN RED STREAKS OF UNPARALLELED LINES / SHE WAS CARVED BY THEIR WORDS, THE BLADE, THE PRESSURE, AND ALL I COULD DO WAS STARE IN AWE AT HER DELICATE FRAME, AS TINY AS AN ANGEL, A FAIRY, SOMETHING UNKNOWN AND UNBELIEVABLY BEAUTIFUL / THE PRESENCE OF HER BEAUTY IN MY WAKE WAS SO DEATH-DEFYING, SO MYSTIFYING, AND ALL I COULD DO WAS SHATTER THE MIRROR, SEEING AN ILLUSION OF PERFECTION AS THE SHATTERED GLASS FELL TO THE COLD TILED FLOOR AND LEFT ME ASTRAY AS I PICKED UP THE BROKEN PIECES, LEAVING BLOOD DRIPPING FROM MY FINGERS, WANTING TO FIX THE DAMAGE DONE TO THE MIRROR AND MY REFLECTION /_

_{the reflection of me is someone else}_

* * *

><p>Hey readers, I admire your perseverance for taking the time to read this depressing, awful story. I wanted to let you know that first off, this story is based off an actual relationship, and that the poetry used is actually from my real Instagram account. Secondly, I DO NOT promote any eating disorders or suicide or cutting. I know it's a little late into the story to mention this, but it's the truth.<p> 


	5. Chapter 5

It was late into the night when I heard a knock at the door, the soft hammering enough for me to bolt upright from my makeshift bed. Already, I felt my heart pounding against my rib cage, my head nauseated from the surprise and sending me into a near stupor. Thankfully, I hadn't been sleeping; it was impossible to get a grip on the situation.

Within a few moments after trying to calm my heart, I stood up from my bed made out of blankets and pillows, which lay on the floor. Without the blankets, goose bumps went flying along my limbs, despite my long sleeved shirt and sweatpants. Wrapping my arms around my waist, I made my way over to Berserk's bedroom door, expecting it to be my imagination. But I had been wrong before, and my mind was in another world, I didn't know what to believe at this hour. Turning the knob, and pulling the door open, I found Brick towering over me once again, his eyes as dark as the night sky.

"What do you want?" I whispered, making sure to keep my voice down to prevent Berserk from waking up.

"I need to talk to you," Brick said, his voice hoarse as if he'd been crying.

"Can't this wait until later? It's two o'clock in the morning," I responded.

"This can't wait, we have to talk now."

I wanted to turn him down and shut the door in his face. What I really wanted was to try and sleep, even though I knew it was impossible. Somehow though, I found myself following him to his room, leaving behind my walls and walking vulnerably into the unknown. With my arms now protectively embracing my chest, and my stomach sucked in tight as I constricted my throat, I felt more protected, safer as I pulled every bit of weakness inside of me, holding back the screams that I had kept within me for years. Brick then shut the door behind me, and stood a couple feet away, the light from his room now shining onto his perfect face. And I felt repulsed to still be attracted to him, after years of trying to let go of this stupid crush, this infatuated love affair with someone invisible.

It was so surreal, the idea of me still in love with a boy who could never return the favor. And I hated myself for it, every inch of me was consumed by his love, and as much as I wanted to expel this feeling, I knew it was impossible.

"Tell me something, anything," he whispered, his eyes sad.

"What are you-" I began before he cut me off.

"Just tell me this, why?" Brick said.

I took a step back, slightly scared and confused. He wanted answers; I knew that for sure, who wouldn't, but why now? That was always the question, why? _Why? Why? Why? _Everything revolved around answers and truths, sometimes lies. And both Berserk and Brick knew that I was keeping the truth hidden, burying it beneath countless lies over the years. But anybody would know that with lies come secrets, and with secrets come risks. People hunt them down and determine some sense, but everything about me was nonsense, not a single part of me made sense.

I had fallen in love with a boy at the age of ten, and not just any boy, but my best friend. Not only my best friend was this boy, but also a friend who had a twin that I trusted with more than my own life. When I told him the truth about how I felt, he abandoned me, and I left him and his sister for five years, regret stabbing me in the heart all that time. During those few years, the pain and sadness welled in my chest and left holes in places where there should have been love and happiness, unknown emotions to me. With nothing to cling to, I found myself alone and friendless, turning to a metallic blade to take away the suffering. My life was dull, and it brought me endless amounts of red, protecting the remaining color that once brought me joy.

There was one day, however, that I had nobody, not even a razor, and found myself walking through the park near my house empty handed and silent. A couple had passed me, arm in arm, a thin, beautiful woman kissing the man's cheek. At that moment, I felt a pang of jealously, over her beauty and natural curve, how perfect she looked. What man could resist her when she was beyond gorgeous?

The following day, I went to school and saw another girl, also visibly thin and of course, beautiful. That same amount of envy rose in my chest and a spark within me ignited a revolution. _I would get thin._

I never really considered anorexia as a possibility, not ever. Whenever I had free time, I would research the best ways to drop a few pounds and to tone up my body. It took a lot of hard work to resist sugary foods and temptations, but with me, any food was a temptation, and once I let myself eat, I couldn't stop myself. Nonetheless, I persisted in my battle to diet healthily, but continued to fail and eventually gained more weight. My frustration began to change my plans and schedules, my mind becoming more obsessed with my weight. Even then, I resisted starving myself.

It wasn't until the start of eighth grade, that everything changed. I had taken the afternoon bus and walked home, the warm breeze intoxicating as I pulled on my sweater, my sweat trickling down my face. Once I walked into my house, I tore off my backpack and sweater, collapsing to the floor as I screamed out in frustration, feeling as if the world was ending and the pressure too much for me to handle. Yelling, I ran to the kitchen and ripped open the cabinets, searching for something to eat to distract myself from my sudden outbreak. My hands landed on a chocolate bar, and I quickly ripped it open, my teeth gnawing it to pieces as I scarfed the candy down my throat. The warm substance churned in my stomach, the leftovers on my face stinging my cheeks and lips. Once I threw the wrapper away, I headed upstairs and shut my bedroom door, walking over to my desk to do my homework. As I stalked across the creamy carpet, I caught myself in the reflection of the mirror, seeing a girl with a muffin top, puffy legs, sausage arms, busty chest, and chubby face. At that moment, I felt completely disgusted, and hated my image, wanting to break the mirror into pieces that could disfigure my body, anything was better than seeing me completely assembled. The girl's eyes in the mirror overflowed with tears, her face red and blotchy as she sobbed into her hands, sick of her own reflection.

_Look at you, fat ass. What the hell is wrong with you? You're a filthy pig; no guy would ever want you._

My ears perked up and slowly, I stood from the floor, searching for a person to match with the voice. It sounded slippery and dangerous, but powerful and reassuring.

_Don't bother finding me, I'm here, that's what matters. You don't ever have to be alone again. My name is Ana and I'm here to be your only friend._

Brick hadn't broken his gaze with me since I entered his room, resulting in me making sure to keep a distance from him. I trusted him, but I didn't trust myself.

"I just want to know what's happened to you, from your perspective," he said, his voice shaky as if he were holding back tears.

"I'm betting that you already know the majority of it," I managed to say, breaking our connection as I turned my head away from him.

"I don't want to believe it, is it true?" he asked.

I remained still before slowly nodding my head, avoiding his eyes and his reaction. I didn't want to see him in pain, but I knew he was hurting, and I could tell from his sigh across the room.

"Why?"

"Does there have to be a reason for everything, Brick?" I snapped, my eyes fixated on his broken smile.

"I just don't understand, why won't you tell me?" he replied curtly.

"Fine. You're the reason!" I screamed.

He backed away from me, his face tormented by an expression that made him look as if he had been shot. Maybe I had shot him, I might as well have. I had fired the arrows, but I couldn't determine where they'd land.

"How am I the reason?" he asked, visibly shaken at my words.

The room fell silent; I was unwilling to answer him. I couldn't think clearly, not with him in the room, or let alone a few feet from me.

"Good night, I'm leaving," I whispered once again, my voice cracking as I reached the brink of tears fleeing.

"Explain first," he responded, his voice now hardened as I walked over to his door, my hand on the knob.

"Not tonight, I need time to figure this out for myself.

Before he could stop me, I escaped the confines of his room and locked Berserk's door behind me, keeping my world apart from his.


	6. Chapter 6

_The bright summer sun reflected a brilliant golden glow off Blossom's long auburn hair**. **Her pink eyes were warm and welcoming, her soft baby pink lips pulled back over a dazzling set of pearly white teeth, which transmitted all her childish happiness and joy into the world, embodying the ideal amount of hope. Even as a child, Blossom was beautiful, but I hadn't seen it._

_ Berserk, Blossom, and I were outside in the baking hot weather, the glare from the sun burning my eyes. Nonetheless, the three of us continued to play in the sandbox, our tiny five-year old hands digging into the sand particles and laughing, as if everything was perfect. Just like everyday during the summer before kindergarten, we played in our backyard, Blossom spending most of her time with Berserk, laughing and sharing stories with only her. And just as usual, I ignored her, finding her constantly annoying as she spoke using the voice of a ten year old, a mature adult trapped within the body of a child. Even so, I found myself admiring her, as I had for years, willing to follow her, but never admitted to doing so. I would often wonder what it would feel like to lead, to be seen as a role model, but it couldn't be possible while standing in her shadow. I hated Blossom._

_ Blossom was playing in the sandbox beside me, her wide pink eyes fixated on a nearby ladybug, completely oblivious to the surrounding world. Carefully, she stood up and caught the bug gently within the palms of her hands. She was possessed by such an infatuated love with the ladybug, her delicate body vulnerable to anything, to me. Without hesitation, I threw a fistful of sand at her, watching as the particles entered her eyes. To my surprise, she didn't start screaming, as I had expected, but simply looked at me as silent tears rolled down her cheeks._

_ "Why would you hurt me? I thought we were friends," she whimpered._

I didn't answer her; I was too young to understand what real pain felt like. As I grew older, the truth finally hit me, that physical pain is temporary, while emotional pain can scar you for life. And in that moment, when I had thrown sand into her eyes, I had put a wall between us, not wanting to show weakness to a girl, to be afraid. But when I had permanently scarred her and our friendship, it had hurt me too. At her words, I felt my world become undone, her beautiful eyes stripping away my innocence and reprogramming my heart. With that one sentence she had spoken, those words, I had fallen in love with her, irrationally and unconditionally. And that was when we were five.

When we were about seven years old, we were playing a game in Berserk's room, _Monopoly_, as I could recall. Blossom had set up the board game herself and claimed the position of banker. It had been my first time playing, and to be honest, I was nervous. As she counted and added up all her money, I just couldn't help but stare. I barely knew how to count to ten, and she was already adding and subtracting numbers at least three digits long. With my mouth gaping, she eventually turned to me and giggled. I, of course, had blushed, as I did anytime I saw her smile. Her smile faded when she saw my money in random stacks and piles, knowing that I was completely lost.

"Here, let me help you," she said, scooting over to my side as she picked up my money and began to count.

That day, she had not only taught me to count, but had also given me the opportunity to fall in love with her mind.

At the age of eight, the three of us had decided to play _Mariokart_, Blossom's all time favorite game. When she had told us that she was an expert pro, Berserk and I simply shrugged. I refused to believe that a girl as smart as herself could beat me at a video game, when _Mariokart_ was also my favorite game. Even so, she challenged me to a race. To my shock, I watched as Blossom turned into a vicious, competitive human being, who crossed the finish line before anyone else. It had been the first time I had seen her less reserved, and it held a precious place in my memory as the first time I fell in love with her competitive personality.

When we were around nine, Berserk and I decided to celebrate our joint birthday party with a trip to the pool in our backyard. We had invited dozens of kids, several of them younger and only invited because of close family relations between parents. And of course, Blossom came too. It had been the first time I'd seen her swim, her figure graceful as she dove into the crystal clear water, demonstrating perfection refined. My eyes were so focused on her, as she resurfaced, not a single part of me noticing the small child that had slipped on the patio concrete and started crying. But Blossom did, she noticed everything. Quickly, she jumped out of the pool and hurried over to the screaming child, whom nobody else noticed, too absorbed in their conversations. I watched in silence as Blossom knelt down in front of the young boy, asking if he was all right, and kissing his tiny scrape along his knee. When he calmed down, she helped him up and gave the boy a gentle hug, then watched as he ran to find his mother. I never mentioned the incident again, knowing it would be awkward for her to know that I had spied on her, but it was the first time I fell in love with her kindness.

Right before she left, at the age of ten, I was at school, walking down the hallways when I passed the library, seeing Blossom for the first time in weeks. She had her nose in a book, her big square frames perfect for her big pink eyes. Hesitantly, I walked into the library, walking towards her direction until she looked up at me, almost as if she were expecting to see me. As quickly as she had seen me, I managed a wave, and within seconds, she was already packing up her belongings, rushing to stay away from me. We hadn't spoken since she left the note under my door, since that morning when I rejected her. As she walked away from the table, I couldn't help but stare at her tiny figure, seeing a delicate, winged creature that was so fragile, so dainty, so breakable. Though she was far away, I could have sworn that I had seen her broken body, knowing that she was already in tiny fragments.

If only Blossom knew the truth. I hadn't rejected her because I was scared for myself, but I was scared for her. I withheld too much love for a single person, and I knew that sometimes, too much love could result in broken things. I was scared that by loving her with all my heart, I could lose her.

* * *

><p>I shook myself awake from the dream, ridding myself of the thoughts of Blossom. Turning on my side, I looked at my alarm clock, finding it reading eight o'clock. Grunting, I sat up, disappointed in how little sleep I had gotten because of her, but also because I knew I wouldn't be able to doze off again. Once I stretched out my limbs, I climbed out of bed and shuffled down the hall, heading downstairs for breakfast.<p>

When I entered the living room, on my way to the kitchen, I jumped back in fright at the sight of a ghost, but turned scarlet when I found Blossom staring out the window, a book tucked into her lap as she sat curled up on the couch. She thankfully hadn't seemed to notice me, her eyes absorbed on the luscious trees growing in our backyard. I was suddenly thrown back into my dream, seeing the five-year old Blossom that had captured that stunning red ladybug. And I realized, nature is beautiful, it brought me _her_.

As quietly as I could, I made my way across the hardwood, gaining more ground towards her until I was at the foot of the couch. Only then did she turn towards me and smile, a small one, but recognizable.

"Morning. Sleep okay?" I asked, keeping my tone light, not wanting to repeat what had happened last night.

"Yeah, you?" she replied, her soft lips forming into an even bigger grin, almost a more relaxed look.

"Yeah."

I sat down on the opposite end of the couch, my legs spread out with my feet touching her knees. Even with her sweatpants, anyone could tell how tiny her legs were. Trying to ignore the millions of questions rising in my chest, I nudged her knees with my toes, hinting at her to spread them out like mine, to make her more comfortable. Fortunately, she obliged and spread out, her feet beside my waist as she released a sigh and turned her head to face the window, the pinks of her eyes roaming the grass. I didn't say anything, but watched as she twirled a loose strand of her long, bronze hair, the lock thin and soft as her fingers spun the hair like a ballerina. I couldn't help but smile.

"What are you smiling about?" she asked, turning back to face me.

"Nothing. What book are you reading?" I asked in return.

"_Handle With Care_, by Jodi Picoult," she said, turning the cover to face me.

"What's it about?" I asked curiously, but also to make conversation.

"A family, several different lives mixed within one single plot. It's very interesting, I highly recommend it if you are feeling especially depressed and sad one day," she said while laughing.

I laughed along with her, feeling slightly better with our current friendship status, but also secretly taking note of the book's title.

When the laughter eventually died, I saw her begin to as well, her eyes darkening and a shadow crossing her pale skin. Blossom was already preparing herself for a string of questions related to last night, but I knew she wasn't ready, so I refrained.

Instead, I asked, "don't you have homework to do during this vacation?"

She frowned, but some color returned to her cheeks, making it a lot easier for me to breathe.

"My parents pulled me out of school at the end of last year. I haven't been back since," she said, her voice strained.

I was about to ask why, but stopped. She didn't have to explain, I already knew and the last thing she wanted or needed was to tell me why.

"How are you taking your classes then?"

"Online, but I haven't really cared recently. I'm not going to college either way at this point, it's too late in the game for me to start over and my parents decided against it."

"Life isn't a game, there are no redo's; you only have now. It's never too late," I responded, feeling sad for her.

It had always been a dream of hers to go to college someday, and it was something everyone expected of her, especially me. She was easily the smartest and most deserving person I knew, and for her to have her dreams disappear from her grasp made everything else seem impossible.

"I honestly don't care anymore, it's game over for me."

"What do you mean?"

She didn't say anything more, but turned to look out the window, the light from her eyes fading as they closed, her body slumping against the couch as she drifted to sleep. And I watched, making sure that every breath she took was never her last.

* * *

><p>"Brick, do you want to watch a movie with Blossom and I?" my sister asked as I began to head upstairs.<p>

"No, I'm going to take a shower," I said with a straight face, masking the temptation to sit close to Blossom.

"All right, but if you change your mind, you know where to find us," Berserk said as she winked, and then bounded down the stairs to the basement.

When she was out of my sight, I hurried up the stairs, then turned left at the end of the hall and shut the door behind me as my eyes searched Berserk's room. I knew I would never get this opportunity again, and I needed some answers. Despite my guilty conscious, I didn't feel bad about snooping through Blossom's belongings.

I pulled her suitcase out of Berserk's closet, unzipped it, and gently began padding through her neatly folded clothes. They were soft and black, all of them long-sleeved and concealing. Digging further down into her bag, my fingers brushed against a spine of a book. Slowly, I uncovered the mystery item, finding a composition book labeled, _Things I Wanted To Say But Never Did_. Scared at what I'd find within it's pages, I carefully flipped through them, discovering the book to be a type of journal. Every entry she had written was addressed to the same person, _Brian_. I knew I would never have time to read it all, each entry decently long. Making a quick decision, I browsed the journal, trying to find the last entry she had written, dating back to a few months ago.

_The Long Lost Truth_

_Sat. Oct. 26_

_1:26 AM – 2:37 AM_

_Brick-_

_Sometimes I wonder why I even bother to try, to try and make the most of my life. But why try when life sucks?_

_I used to blame myself for everything I did wrong, like being a loner, being a bitch, and having an addiction to the blades and losing weight. But not all of it is my fault, there was pressure from everyone, pressure to be messed up and sick._

_Though I was depressed in sixth grade, no lie, I never considered suicide. I didn't even know what it was until seventh grade. I never cut myself, or felt fat. Though I thought I was a bitch, I never punished myself by starving or cutting. I didn't own a razor until eighth grade._

_Why do I tell you this? Because it's the truth, and I never had the guts to admit it until now._

_Living in Singapore now high above the city, I can see the life around me, a beacon of hope, or a curse._

_I write this now in a bra and Captain America sweatpants, my curtains pulled back for me to see the sky. I wrote a poem a few nights ago and posted it on Instagram, a way to let the world know that I am seriously messed up, to steer clear of me. The poem was about how I watched the sky, how empty it was, like me. And it's true. There is nothing within me anymore._

_So much to say…_

_You made me this way, I understand now that I was blinded by the love I felt for you, unable to see myself clearly. You were never my savior, never. You gave me the blades and a broken heart, refusing to let me tell you how I really feel._

_Like I mentioned earlier, I felt the pressure to be sick. I wanted to pretend that I was messed up in the head so I had a reason to hide, to be different. Ironic how I am truly messed up now, it isn't an act anymore._

_I have so many things to hide._

_I'm also an attention cutter, or **was. **At the end of fifth grade, I used my fingernails to commit self-harm. Remember when we went to the movies to see **The Fault in Our Stars**? I was wearing a cami-top with a tank reading "Excuses Don't Burn Calories." My back was engraved with nail marks, scabs, and bruises. They were completely visible to the world, and I prayed that you would notice. Maybe you did, I don't know. When in the locker room, changing for PE class, I would suck in my gut to a point where I looked anorexic, my back facing the rest of the girls as I pulled off my shirt. I wanted them to take pity on me, to feel bad. I wanted excuses for being a bitch, secretive, and weird. I wanted explanations as to why people would look at me funny in the hallways, not sit with me in class, **the last person picked for everything.**_

_I have never starved myself, I can never do it, no matter how hard I try. But I want to, I need to._

_Life was so simple years ago, my dad was deployed to Afghanistan, leaving me with little pressure. I never missed him, ever. I hated myself for wanting him to stay away, to get injured so I would have another reason to be pitied._

_You see, I wanted reasons to be frowned upon. Because I was already weird and different, why not go all the way? Why not be the worst I could be? Why not be the worst of anybody? In some ways, I believed I wanted an escape route, to prevent my hidden secrets from being revealed._

_But this is my life now, and the rest of what I'm about to tell you is all true._

_I am a real cutter now. I change in the locker room's showers to prevent people from seeing countless scars running across my hips and waist. I punish myself at least two nights a week, letting the scorching hot shower water touch my skin, burning the cuts engraved by my razor deeper into my memory._

_But still, sometimes I want people to see, so they know to keep away, to maybe pity. Another reason for them to save me, to love me. But I have **nearly** accepted that no guy could ever love a girl who doesn't even love herself._

_I am not anorexic, but I want to be. Not for pity, but because I can't stand living in this body. I am fat, and it's hard for a guy to love someone who isn't thin. I limit myself to food at school though, when my parents don't know, when they can't stop me. Sometimes, I only eat an apple and a tiny container of almonds through the whole school day, from 6 am to 7:30 pm, when I come home and binge, something I am getting better at avoiding._

_And I am suicidal. I often wonder why I try so hard to make life better. I put so many hours into my life, filling it with nonstop activity so I can't think about it, so I won't, but when night falls and I try to sleep, ending this routine, it's all I think about, resulting in me getting three hours of sleep a night._

_I sometimes walk out onto my balcony and grip the railing, thinking about how I would feel to jump, the feeling of falling. And I realize I'm scared, but because of the height, not the end of everything._

_And all this revolves around you, sadly so._

_I thought you were my savior, but you made me see life differently, reminding me of how imperfect I am._

**_Cutting: _**_Punishment for failing, you reminded me of how fat I was, how much smarter you were, that I wasn't good enough for you._

**_Starvation:_**_ To lose weight and be perfect, be wanted by you or any other man. I want to be fragile, to be protected._

**_Suicide:_**_ Because I failed at those two things, cutting and starvation. I will never be the suicidal cutter, who wants to bleed to death or the anorexic patient who throws up when drinking water._

_I am like any other girl, with issues, but I'm different because I want the pity, or **did**. I'm too far gone to care, I want to end my life now._

_At the beginning of this entry, I said I wanted to be sick, and now everyone believes I'm quarantined. There is pressure, especially from you. I don't want the pressure to have this disease, this disorder anymore, but I no longer have control. That's why I cut my hair, because **you** were taking over, controlling me and my actions._

_But it isn't your fault. I loved you once, and those feelings never go away. You moved on, letting me regain control, but I didn't want to, needing the pity of others to control me. I forgive you, because it's now my fault._

_I used to scream for you, crying all night for your arms. You never came, all that was there were the blades. They have become my best friends, never judgemental, never leaving me alone._

_I still love you, or I want to believe I do. But I am so messed up in the head that I don't even cry for you anymore. I don't miss you like I did when we were still in fifth grade, able to see each other everyday. I'm in Singapore, halfway across the world and as much as I want to miss you, I don't. I'm just too numb to feel. You broke my heart into a million pieces and walked all over it without even knowing or noticing._

_I'm so lost and unable to feel that I can't pick up the pieces, I can't put myself back together. The cutting and starving pains growling from my stomach scream at me, but I can never hear. I'm deaf to the world, blinded by my love for you that I can't think clear enough to free myself of the pain of being numb._

_I have accepted that you don't love me, and I understand. But, I still love you and thank you for opening my eyes to reality, giving me an invitation to meet God sooner than I had ever expected._

_- __Blossom__, the girl who never lets go, and is too sick to even admit the truth. I didn't shed a single tear when writing this._


	7. Chapter 7

Once Berserk had served me my lunch, she excused herself from the table. I was about to protest against the chicken sandwich she had prepared for me, but swallowed my words when I saw her walk to the foyer and open the front door.

"Hey Blossom, I'm running to the store for food. I'll be back in an hour," she yelled, then shut the door behind her as she left the house.

Though I felt guilty, I stood up from the dining room table and made my way over to the kitchen, dumping the sandwich into the trash, which had been left completely untouched by my hands. Knowing I had eaten too much of my dinner last night, eating half the serving instead of a quarter, I was determined to starve myself today. Without a scale to weigh myself after every meal, I had to take extra precautions with how much I ate.

When I heard the landing of the sandwich at the bottom of the can, I felt a rumble of agreement from my stomach, but frowned when I realized that there was evidence of my uneaten lunch. Before anyone saw me, I ripped the bag out of the trashcan, tied a knot, and walked out the backdoor, throwing my lunch away into the large garbage bin. As I shut the lid, I looked up at the second floor, my eyes out of habit glancing into Brick's room. _I was busted._

Brick stood in the window, his smoldering crimson eyes wary as his flawless face reeled in disappointment, and _pain? _I couldn't help but notice as his perfect lips bent into a grimace, his hands running through his short red hair as he looked away, probably disgusted with me. I didn't blame him; I sickened myself. Turning away from the window, I wandered back inside, preparing for his most likely outburst.

I was astonished when I found the first floor empty of him, and knew he'd be waiting for me upstairs. As much as I wanted to avoid him, I knew I'd have to face him sooner or later, and plus, I really needed a shower. I wound my arms around my waist, my nails gripping my sides sharply as I climbed to my probable death. Every step taken echoed within the house, a reminder that we were alone, that if anything happened, it would be an empty moment. _Or would it?_

As I turned to walk into Berserk's room, I heard Brick's door behind me open. _Crap. _And there he was, perfection standing before me, wearing a tight fitted red shirt that carved out his muscles, and a pair of boxers. I turned away from him, trying to keep the situation from getting any more awkward. He didn't move, I felt his gaze burn holes all over my body, most specifically my face. If only he were able to do so, I would gladly accept his torture so I could escape this moment between us.

"Care to explain to me what the hell is going on?" he asked.

"I don't think that there's much to tell," I shrugged.

"I agree, I know everything, but I want to hear it from you."

I closed my eyes, like the day I arrived at their house, silently promising to myself to tell him the truth. _Just tell him_.

"Let me show you."

Brick's eyes widened, obviously taken aback at my final comment, but didn't object. Without letting go of my eyes, he moved aside and welcomed me into his room. At this point, I felt my stomach heave, my heart now in my throat as I shuffled across the carpet and into his room. For the second time since I'd been here, he closed the door behind himself, and then blocked the entrance. By this point, I knew that there would be no escape.

"Show me your scars, your bones," he said.

"It's my turn to ask, why?"

"I want to see how many times you needed me and I wasn't there," he whispered, a single tear rolling down his cheek.

Feeling my throat begin to tighten, the pain building up in my chest all over again, I turned away. My thin, bony fingers gripped the hem of the bottom of my shirt, and gradually pulled the fabric off my body, leaving me in only a bra. I felt my face clam up again, but not out of embarrassment, out of shame. It was unnatural, the boy I loved seeing me like this, and I was nervous as to being judged, not rejected. Closing my eyes, I awaited his reaction, hearing a sharp intake of air as he examined my body. The truth had finally been revealed, finally exposed. Every inch of me that I had kept a secret for five years was finally set free, but I wasn't. The expression, _the truth will set you free_, it didn't apply to me. My pain had become his, and I knew it the moment he touched my shoulder and spun me around, seeing my whole front. I didn't look at him, keeping my eyes glued to the floor.

"I'm sorry, I have to go," I whispered, breaking the touch of his hands and walking out the door, heading to the bathroom to finally shower.

I needed to cleanse myself of my sins, the hot water to scorch me, so I'd feel like I was already living in hell. It sure felt like I was.

Once I'd completely stripped myself of any clothing, I couldn't help but stare at the alienated girl in the mirror. She was beautiful, her soft pink eyes staring back at me in wonder, her lips full and plump, easily kissable. Her long auburn hair flowed past her chest, her body thin and fragile. But she wasn't me. The reflection was the girl I wanted to be, but here I stood, able to pinch inches of fat on my sides, and look pregnant while I sucked in my gut. I hated myself, but I hated the girl in the mirror even more, because I knew I could never be her.

Taking the razor I had stolen from my toiletries bag, I ran the blade along my hips, leaving bright red streaks along my flesh. The blood ran from my cuts, and down my legs, staining my pale white skin a deeper shade of red. The color had returned to my life, but the pain that it brought with it wasn't real, the suffering was all that would remain.

Hopping in the shower, I let the hot water burn my wounds, and burn my back. My breathing became ragged as I used my fingernails to tear my back apart, digging the nails deep into my skin as I felt tears sting my eyes. I let them fall; shutting my lids and allowing the blackness consume my mind, feeling the water hit my lashes. Every part of me was so sensitive, and the fact that the boy I loved had just seen me at my weakest point, bare and exposed, I couldn't take it.

"Oh my God."

My eyes flashed open as I spun around. There he stood, Brick's face stunned as he took in my body, the glass shower allowing him to see everything. His eyes reflected the deep red leaking out of my body, his face becoming as pale as my skin had once been.

Before I could even explain, he rushed into the bathroom, opened the glass shower door, and pressed his lips to mine. At the first touch between our lips, I felt my body double over in electricity, my eyes eventually closing as our flesh had finally connected. When his lips released mine, I found him dripping wet while fully clothed. The shower water was still running, but he ignored the scalding water, our kiss more intense than anything else.

"You have to stop."

I looked at him, completely dazed.

"Why should I?"

There was that word again, _why?_

"Because I can't lose you."

Right then, I thought I had already lost _him_. He was making no sense.

"Damn it Blossom, don't look at me like that. We both know it's the truth."

He then turned the faucet all the way to the right, shutting off the steaming hot water, leaving the bathroom silent.

"I love you."


	8. Chapter 8

_At the age of six, I had spent numerous nights outside, lying on the soft grass as I looked up at the sky, counting the stars. It would be freezing, the chill crawling up my skin as it passed through my thin nightgown. Though the thin fabric would barely keep the cold away, it was enough for me to remain lying on that grass, admiring the stars that hung low from the sky. At the time, when I was too young to understand the world, I would pray, asking God to be my protector, to be my friend. The stars would shine brightly in return, dancing before my wide, brown eyes as I drifted to sleep._

* * *

><p><em>Everyone knew of my gift, and watched in silence as I sketched unparalleled lines on blank sheets of paper, blending in the shades of grey with one another until there was not a single space of emptiness left. And yet, even with my remarkable talent shining brightly by day, none of my works could compare to the raw beauty of my masterpiece at night, the one that nobody knew about, the one that coexisted in secret behind my walls as it lurked in the darkness.<em>

**_If only I was that perfect._**

_Although I have never been particularly talented in art, I had a knack for drawing, especially on my skin, finding great freedom in the fluidity of such a sharp object. I remember sitting in art class, sketching meaningless lines on paper, thinking of a world far from our own. And I was okay with facing oblivion. _

_ I turned the utensils on myself once the bullying started. Each scar inscribed onto my waist meant something, one cut for lying, a slash for being a coward, a stab into my side for being me. _

_ So here I stand, in the early morning before the sun had risen, in my bathroom. My face was full in the reflection of the mirror, my hands trembling, as they wanted nothing but to erase my hideous eyes, fat body, and empty soul. I was ugly enough to break the mirror, the glass shattering from my image. _

**_What a pretty picture._**

_ I ran my fingers through my short brown hair, imitating the touch of my grandmother's hands as she ran a brush through the loose strands. _

_ "You're so beautiful."_

_ "What makes me beautiful?"_

_ "The way your hair gleams golden brown when kissed by the sun, reflecting the clearness of your wondrous eyes. And when you write, you write from the heart. Your soul is beautiful in every way." _

_ Sure, she was my grandmother, and obligated to say what she had said. Yet, I believed her. Ever since then, I had admired my grandmother for finding beauty in the smallest things, the pieces of nothing that had begun to fade away into our world, silent as they disappeared altogether. _

_ Eyes wide and full of tears, they watched my reflection in the mirror warily as I lifted my shirt above my head. Painted streaks of red ran along my hips bones and waist, decorating my canvas in the different shades of red. The darker the hue, the deeper the scars were buried further within my soul. _

_ I thought back to yesterday, the memory of me sitting in art class still fresh. We were assigned to paint something unrealistic. I had designed and created a picture of a beautiful natural terrain, the sky lit like a candle, the continuous burning ember resting along the horizon of an everlasting sunrise. _

_ I picked up the razor resting beside me atop the sink, an immediate feeling of guilt filling my lungs as I stifled a cry. My eyes gazed at the blade, falling under its trance as the bloodstained steel glinted under the fluorescent light. For something so light, the razor weighed down in my hand as I raised it to my side, bracing myself for the oncoming slaughter of my own flesh, preparing for the overwhelming release of emotions, the dire need for the cleansing of sins. _

_ Grasping it tightly, I felt tears stream down my cheeks, my body following in suit as I collapsed onto the cold, tiled floor. Disgusted by the power of its demonic possession, I released my death grip on the blade, the heartless metal clinking on the floor. _

_ Her smile and beautiful eyes invaded my mind, how they sparkled as she looked up at the stars. I was afraid for her, and wanted to protect her from the haunted shadows that roamed in darkness. Only, it was too late, not for her, but for me. I couldn't save her, not when I couldn't even save myself. _

* * *

><p><em>Just jump. Those words echoed in my mind as I lay in bed. Tears began to well in my eyes, my jaw clenched as I fought back the urge to scream. My flesh burned as those tears fell, scorching my skin like hell. It felt natural to burn, enduring the pain similarly to the months beforehand. Their words, actions, lies, and truths set the tears a blaze, spreading like wildfire across my skin.<em>

_ Images of my once loyal friends took over my senses completely, my room spinning before my eyes like the ceiling fan, only I couldn't differentiate between which one spun more, my life or this fan. I was lost in a world of nausea and the lies damned by the people who had earned my trust._

**_Just end it._**

_ Those three words became engraved into my mind, a reminder of the artwork carved on my skin. The permanent ink of blood had dried over my insecurities, my self-sufficient lies. My enemies had given me the blades, and I willingly embedded their words of truth into my side, believing them to be true._

**_Bitch. Fat. Liar. Big fucking jerk._**

_ It had been a while since I'd drawn on my blank sheet of paper, not because I understood the consequences, or because the pain didn't deserve to consume me, but because I was scared. I wasn't willing to see what was left of nothing. Though the scars have faded over time, I can still feel the carvings on my skin, the stinging sensation lasting until nightfall. Scars can heal and fade, but they never disappear, not from our memory._

_ Wide awake, I found myself padding over to my window, a panorama of vibrant life bursting throughout the busy city of Kuala Lumpur from high above several floors of concrete. Even in the dark, it was lit up like a diamond. Despite the view, I could only see the ugly found within the damned souls of this fallen city, kneeling to the powers long forgotten by God. _

_ Beams of light were left forgotten behind cars as they drove along the expressway, leaving the exposed light to disperse into the starry night sky, disappearing completely. Like dust in the wind, the light no longer existed; I no longer existed._

**_Eat my bubbles._**

_ Those words were written on her back, the blank ink seeping into the competitor's skin. I imagined a world in which I raced for the victory, the type of victory worth more than the stainless gold hung by ribbons. The moment the swimmer before me jumped into the water, the words written on her back flashed before my eyes and a part of me believed that I would win._

_ The memory since then has been blurred with the chlorine water, ultimately erasing that moment in which I had begun to accept myself. What survived, however, was regaining the feeling of importance and moving on. My hands had cut through the water just as the blades had pierced through my skin, splitting the water like Moses had when parting the Red Sea and leading the Hebrews to safety. I had carried myself to the finish, leaving behind the other swimmers, wearing not a smile of pride, but of dignity._

_ My hands instinctively grasped my waist, lifting my shirt slightly to touch the raised, but healed scars. Although the tips of sharp metal hadn't touched my skin in an eternity, the numbness of reality continued to suffocate my body. For six months, I hadn't breathed, and now was the time for a breath of fresh air._

_ Taking a deep breath, I unlocked my window, carefully climbing onto the ledge as I looked down at the damned Earth. God had made all girls angels, breeding the innocent into a world of sin and evil. He had given us wings, but few of us choose to risk leaving behind all we have ever known. Not me. Closing my eyes, I spread my arms like wings, awaiting the feeling of freedom. _

_ Just as I was about to let myself go, a strong gust of wind came and enveloped me with open arms, the silent prayers awakening me from my nightmare, a nightmare that had been slowly luring me further into a dark tunnel, one of which could not possibly withhold enough light to guide me home. Taking a giant leap of faith, I stepped down from the window, my heart in my throat as I began to weep, the moon above shining as bright as the stars._

_The distant moon settled into my gaze, my eyes unable to release its luminous power held over me. It was as white as my skin had once been, the color of an angel's wings. But even the most promising sunrise, or most beautiful moon wasn't enough to paint over my permanent red skin, to quench my thirst for rehabilitated life. My innocence had dispersed into the evening air outside my walls, blowing away alongside the dust long forgotten by the thousands of cars driving on the expressway. With the constellations my guide, the nonexistent dust beside me in never ending song, I was borne back over countless waves, turning away from oblivion._

* * *

><p>Brick and I were sitting on his bed, my body cloaked in one of my oversized long sleeved shirts. He was wearing a pair of sweatpants and a tight shirt, showing off his muscles for a second time today. I couldn't focus on them though, my world spinning around me as he finished telling me the truth.<p>

"I love you Blossom, I really do."

"After all this time, all the pain, you finally tell me."

His deep red eyes softened, as if he understood me better than I thought I did. To be honest, I was too confused to remember anything besides the last five minutes.

"I didn't want to hurt you," he responded.

"How could you have possibly hurt me anymore than you just have?"

"Because if you had known, for you to leave would have been the most difficult thing for the both of us, and I already knew how much trouble you were in before you left for five years. I knew you didn't need anymore pain in your life, so I handled it on my own."

I felt a sharp snap in my chest, the control I had regained over the past few minutes threatening to disappear, the tears starting to choke my throat.

"I needed you," I managed to say between harsh sobs.

"I know."

"Then why weren't you there for me?" I screeched, slapping him across the cheek.

The strength of my hand took me by surprise, his hand instantly touching his swollen red cheek. Brick didn't seem upset, his face lifting into a small smile.

"I guess I deserved that," he laughed softly, inching closer to me as the bed groaned under our weight.

"You deserve more."

"Even though I screwed up our relationship, I have to disagree. The last thing that could make this situation any better is to beat each other up more, we know it won't accomplish anything," he said, his fingers lacing with mine.

As badly as I wanted to hold this grudge against him, I didn't let go of his tender hand, wanting to sew my fingers with his forever, for him to stitch up the holes in my heart and let me heal. But that's the problem, my heart was broken when I realized how madly in love with him I was, and when we grew closer with our friendship, he ended up tearing the thread and my heart became unraveled, breaking it all over again. It was all because I let him get close to me, and I let myself fall for someone as perfect as him, when I was nothing.

"No, I meant that you deserve more than me," I said, pulling away from him gingerly.

"Don't say that-" he said, his eyebrows scrunching together in disagreement.

"But it's true, you deserve better than me. I'm nothing, Brick, nothing. You of all people should understand how worthless I am, how selfish I am. And you of all people deserve so much better." I cried; keeping my eyes locked on his.

We sat in silence for a while before he turned away, breaking our gaze as I saw his face redden with anger.

"Show me your scars again, I want to show _you_ something," he whispered, tucking a stray strand of my soft hair behind my ear as he once again looked into my eyes, his red ones filled with desperation.

I didn't argue with him, but slowly turned to face my back to him, grasping the bottom of my shirt and pulling it over my head, leaving my top bare, goose bumps crawling along my arms when I felt his eyes trace my curves. My entire body shivered when I felt his fingers touch my shoulder blades, then trailing down to the small of my back and moving to the sides. That's when my body tensed up completely, his fingers sketching themselves along with my cuts and scars, feeling the carvings all the way to my heart. I heard him sigh before he rested his head on my back, tears touching my bare back.

"Show me the blades."

"What? Why?" I asked, anxious now as he relaxed and stepped off the bed, the mattress rising a few inches so I then had to crank my neck up to see his flawless face.

"I want to see."

Following in suite, I hopped off the bed and floated across the hallway and into Berserk's room. With my suitcase already laid out on the floor, I dug through my clothes until I grabbed my toiletries bag, looking for my sharp razor I had used earlier.

"Give it to me," Brick said, holding his hand out.

I shook my head quickly, tears streaming down my eyes. I hated this, him seeing me so weak when I was already broken, it made me feel out of control and even more unstable.

"Blossom, damn it, give it to me now."

Unwillingly, I reached my hand out for his, razor in hand as I felt my fingers shake around the blade, not wanting to let go of the only control I had left. My hands relaxed, however, when I felt his warmth wrap around mine, keeping me still as he took the metal object.

Before I could say anything, I watched in horror as he took the blade and ran it quickly over his arm, leaving a large cut on his flesh. My stomach lurched when I saw the red liquid bounding over his skin, his innocent whiteness darkening to black.

"Why'd you do that?" I asked, panicked at the sight of him injured.

And then, Brick did it again, running it along his other arm, making it deeper than the last.

"Stop! Stop! Please, I'm begging you, stop!" I cried, my sobs louder than ever.

He ignored my protests and continued, bringing the razor to his neck, leaving a large gash below his ear.

"Why are you doing this?" I yelled, my vision blurring the red and white lines of his once angelic face.

He finally stopped, dropping the bloodied blade onto the cream carpet, staining it red. It reminded me of _Alice in Wonderland_, how innocence would never remain, the white roses needing to be painted red even when they were already beautiful. After watching the floor bleed, he answered me in tears.

"Because this is what you're doing to me."


	9. Chapter 9

I had left the window open in the night, falling asleep in a bundle of blankets as I slept peacefully for the first time in ages. The bright light entered through the glass, reflecting a series of intricate prisms on the walls. I stirred in my makeshift bed, not willing to sit up from my cocoon of warmth. Nonetheless, I couldn't help but watch the rainbows of dazzling light dance upon Berserk's walls. The breathtakingly beautiful sight etched a smile into my thin face, reminding me of yesterday.

Stretching my arms into a tight streamline, I sat up from my pile of blankets, escaping the tight embrace of my sheets as I stalked towards the bathroom. My feet froze to the touch of the cold tiles, sending shivers up my spine as I stood in front of the mirror, taking in my familiar face. For the first time in months, the dark circles under my eyes had begun to recede, turning to a lighter shade of grey as my eyes pierced through the glass, examining a new aura to my existence.

"Morning sunshine," Berserk said as she appeared in the doorway to the bathroom.

"Good morning," I replied as I turned to her, smiling like an idiot.

"You seem to be in a good mood, what's up?" she asked, raising her eyebrows in a curious fashion.

"I don't know, I guess I just feel happier than normal."

"That's great, you don't always need a reason to be happy."

I nod, my grin spreading even more on my face, my cheeks beginning to ache. It was strange to smile, but I wasn't complaining.

"Do we have anything planned for today?" I asked, adjusting my grin to a small smile, containing my emotions to the best of my ability.

"No, do you have anything in mind?" Berserk asked, not even missing a beat.

"The weather sure is nice today, we should do something outside."

"Yeah, want to go swimming?" Berserk suggested.

I couldn't hold back my raw excitement any longer. Without hesitation, I threw my arms around her.

"Oh my gosh, can we?" I asked, clearly overwhelming her.

"If that's what you want. Come, let's change so we can swim," she said, pulling away and leading me back to my bedroom.

I knelt down next to my suitcase and rummaged through my clothes, searching for a swimsuit suitable for this perfect day. Grabbing ahold of my favorite one piece, I stood up and stalked back to the bathroom, changing effortlessly as the fabric peeled over my skin, slipping on as easily as it was breathing. Of all my swimsuits, this was the only one of which that could conceal my bones the easiest, as well as the cuts. Escaping the bathroom, I came face to face with Berserk, her face twisting in discomfort as she eyed my disembodied figure.

"You know, I was kind of hoping that you would wear a two piece. I refuse to wear one and you looking like that," she said, pointing a finger at my swimsuit.

"Berserk, in case you've forgotten, I'm not one for revealing my body," I replied, keeping my voice monotone.

"Too bad, our pool is private and nobody will see. I mean, Brick knows right?" she asked, looking at me quizzically.

"You could say that," I whispered, looking down at my trembling hands guiltily.

"I'm proud of you, he deserves to know the truth and you deserve to be free."

_I don't deserve to be free, but I want to be. _

"Anyways, come on, it's just the three of us," she begged.

I frowned, not wanting to give her any gratitude towards the hesitation in my apparel.

"Please, I'll let you borrow my new one, the color will compliment you nicely."

"Fine," I finally said, giving up.

"Oh my gosh, really? I'm so happy right now, come on, change already so we can get this party started," she laughed, pulling me over to her dresser.

"Did you really just call this a party? There are three people attending," I said casually as she handed me a pink bikini.

"I know, I know, but I could bring the party anywhere," she grinned.

It was impossible not to smile back, my happiness escalating into hysteria. It felt childish, unfamiliar, but in the best way.

* * *

><p>Their house loomed over the pool, resting on a hilltop settled among a forest of trees. The pool was classy and elegant, surrounded by huddles of trees desperate to live in each other's shade. Though I had been living in a hot, bright climate for the past five years, it was today that I realized I'd been in the dark for too long. Berserk had spread a towel out in the blaze of the morning sun, her body possibly scorched, as she lay relaxed on the pool deck. She hadn't touched the water, not willing to chlorinate her new hot pink bikini.<p>

Despite my best intentions to maintain my organized composure, I felt my heart rate increase, my body shaking as I gripped the pool deck. It had become a full-blown anxiety attack. Wearing only my pink bikini, my pale body exposed, I sat with my feet dipping into the pool water, the sensation sending chills down my spine. Yet, even as the nervousness overtook every system in my body, I didn't mind. Because, for the first time in forever I was free, and if having anxiety, or regrets was the price to be paid for living a life with no limitations, then so be it.

"Are you swimming or what?" Berserk called to me as she sat upright, and then dropped her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose.

I stared at her for the longest time, my head silently debating whether or not I should just let myself go. It had been so long since I'd swum. When I began to starve myself, I was kicked off the swim team. Whenever I passed my coach in the hallways, she would always smile, an apologetic, sympathetic smile, and it made me sick. This one time, however, she pulled me aside during one of my classes, and said that I was always welcome back whenever I recovered. The problem was, I knew I would never get better, only sicker and sicker. She had said that I was a great loss to the team, that I was vital for the team's survival. But she had gotten it all wrong, the team saved me, swimming saved me. It was the only way I could feel like I was flying, and all because I had the strength to. When I was suspended from the team, I knew that I would never have a chance of recovering without it, and I knew that I had lost my one chance at living a free life.

"Yes, I'm swimming."

"Then hurry up all ready. I want to see this," she laughed.

"Hey, I was a swimmer you know," I argued, chuckling as I watched her throw her head back in pure delight.

"You claimed to be a swimmer, but I never saw you in action."

"Well, if I had worn a one piece, maybe you could've," I responded, pointing guiltily at her.

"You didn't have to wear it."

"Yeah okay, like you wouldn't have forced it onto me if I hadn't," I said.

"True," she hesitated, "will you just get in already?"

I smiled and stood up from the pool deck, my feet burning from the touch of the concrete. Raising my arms behind my head into a tight streamline, I instantly relaxed. It was so natural to stretch my arms, to feel the power surging through every single vein in my body. My shoulder blades were touching, my back muscles contracting as I took in a deep breath, letting the air fill up my chest.

My eyes focused on the refraction and reflection of the water, the water so clear and sharp as I closed my coral pink eyes, letting go of everything I had been suppressing for so long. Leaping out, I dove into the pool, the familiarity of perfection shaping my body into the shape of an arrow, a dagger piercing the water without so much as a single splash. All of it, the entire scenario enlightened me, the memories of my past swimming career flooding my mind. Coming up for air, it seemed, was more difficult than holding my breath underwater. A gasped at reality, desiring to stay under the water and just sink, to watch the world go by. It was a normal reaction; water had always been my home. I was a natural born fish out of water.

Once I reopened my eyes to the blinding sun, they quickly adjusted, water droplets clinging to my lashes. My stomach heaved at who stood before me, Brick, in his swim trunks and revealing a bare torso with the definition of perfection written all over it.

"How about a friendly swimming competition between the two of us?"

"What are you waiting for? Get in here." I yelled, giggling as he approached the lapping pool water at the foot of the stairs.

I watched as he waded into the shallow end of the pool, goose bumps crawling up his arms as he sank into the crystal clear water.

"You know, I'm going to win," I said as I smirked.

"Please, you couldn't beat me. If you could, then you'd be perfect," Brick replied.

"How about a little wager?" I suggested, wanting to throw his ego a bit, to make him believe he actually had a chance.

He knew I used to swim, but he never saw or knew how fast I could be when I wanted to win.

His ears immediately perked up, "I'm listening."

"If I win, I get to make dinner. If I lose, I have to eat whatever concoction Berserk cooks up."

"Hey, my cooking skills aren't that bad," Berserk yelled from atop the pool deck.

Brick and I both turned her direction, partially surprised to find her here. I had forgotten that she was right next to us.

"She's right, her cooking isn't so bad. If you lose, _I_ get to make dinner," Brick said, stifling a snicker.

"What's your part of the deal?" I asked, curious as to what he wanted to wager in favor of our girl to boy competition.

I saw his face spread into a wide, mischievous grin. My heart rate immediately sped up, my expression becoming unfathomable apart from the red rising to my cheeks.

"If I lose, I don't get to sit next to you during the movie we are watching later."

"That doesn't seem to harsh, what if you-"

"Let me finish," he said, interrupting my sentence with a flick of a hand.

I nodded, closing my mouth and letting him continue with his proposal.

He leaned in close to me, just a few inches of water preventing our bare skin from touching, "if I win, I get to kiss you."

_Oh my. _His breath tickled my skin, sending a radiant blush throughout my entire body. The heat rose to my cheeks, enamoring a gentle shiver down my spine.

"What do you mean? You already kissed me, remember, in the shower," I said, glancing at Berserk, making sure she wasn't paying attention.

Thankfully, she was absorbed with the contents on her phone.

"That doesn't count, you didn't kiss me back. I never envisioned that to be our first kiss," he chuckled, coming even closer.

I placed my hand on his bare chest, pushing him gently away, keeping some distance between us. He was warm to the touch, and it sent a flurry of butterflies erupting in my stomach.

"Alright, deal," I flushed, releasing his chest and holding my hand out for him to shake.

"Deal," he replied, taking my hand in his and squeezing it lightly.

With my hand gripping his, I _almost_ wanted to lose this apparent race, just so I could kiss him again.

Releasing his tender hand, I waded away from him and up the stairs, motioning for him to follow as we lined up on the pool deck. It was at least a twenty-five meter pool, my body visibly relaxing as I recalled the days of intense and rigorous swim practice. Getting into my natural diving position, I took in a deep breath, preparing to race. And within a second, my surroundings changed to a swim meet, the familiar estate brought to my attention as I arched my back.

"Alright, one race, no rematch. Fifty-meters. Fairly simple right?" Berserk asked, her figure now standing at the foot of the pool as she prepared to set us off.

"Listen to you Ms. Referee, you think swimming is simple. There are so many rules, and regulations," I began.

"Blossom, this isn't a real race," she reasoned.

I grinned, satisfied with my first snarky comment of the day.

"Take your mark... Go!" Berserk shouted, the adrenaline spiking through my body as I dove into the pool.

My body went into an immediate streamline, my body once again like an arrow as I pierced the water, my legs using all their force to butterfly kick underwater until I hit the surface. From my first breath, it became an all out sprint. Despite my pitiful swimsuit and lack of a swim cap with goggles, I was flying through the water, leaving any trace of Brick behind me.

_ Ha, eat my bubbles. _

Once I hit the wall, I propelled myself into a powerful flip turn, glancing to my right where Brick was struggling to keep up. He was at least half a pool behind me. I couldn't help but smile, and even in the water, I knew it was the biggest smile I had ever given. The smile was one of pride; because of all the things I was terrible at, I was incredibly talented in something so beautiful and majestic. To me, swimming was an art.

Within seconds, I felt my hands slap the wall at the starting end, my chest rising and falling too fast for me to count. I had missed the feeling of my heart bursting out of my chest, the irregular heartbeat, and the hard panting in the midst of a victory. It had been so long since I felt special, since I felt like I was worth something.

"Holy shit."

I turned to find Berserk gawking at me, her eyes wide as she and I shared a look of awe.

"When you said you were fast, you really meant it. Damn girl, you are speed."

By the time my heart rate had dropped a few intervals, Brick finally came up behind me and grasped the wall, surfacing from the water sputtering and choking.

"Holy… fuck, you're… so… fast. Like… I couldn't… even… see you," he managed between each fit of panting.

"I guess I win then, dinner's my pick tonight," I laugh, memorizing his face in pure exhaustion.

"This needs to be photographed, this moment. I want to remember the time when Blossom kicked my brother's ass out of the water," Berserk said, grabbing her phone and snapping a picture of the two of us.

"Was that entirely necessary?" I asked, keeping a straight face.

But she never responded, her eyes locked on her phone screen as she frowned.

"Hey guys, you mind if I go inside? I have to deal with Robin; she's having boy troubles."

"Sure, go ahead. We'll be fine," I said, waving her off.

"Thanks Blossom, see you at dinner," she said, then turned and ran back into the house.

Once she was gone, I felt a pair of hands wrap around my waist and pull me into a tight embrace. The water lapped at my sides as Brick tightened his arms around me, his warmth embellishing my face with a smile.

"Do you really want to watch that movie?" he asked, kissing the top of my head while his abdomen touched my back.

I shivered once more to the touch of his bare skin, just wishing to kiss every inch of him. Taken aback by my unexpected and slightly inappropriate thoughts, I tensed, wondering why all the sudden I wanted to be with him. Maybe it was because his lips were quickly becoming irresistible. Maybe it was because he was touching me with a tender touch. Maybe it was because he was so easy to fall in love with. And it hit me, I still loved him more than I could ever describe, and the thought of losing him was unbearable. But yet, even though he had ignored it, the fact that he deserved more, was still echoing in my mind. It would be selfish of me to keep him when we both knew that he was worth more than the world. But with his strong arms supporting me, his breath enveloping my skin, and his lips climbing closer to my jaw, all the thoughts drowning my desires drained and disappeared.

"Why the hesitation? Considering something else?" he asked, turning me to face him, only a few inches between our bodies.

It took all my willpower to stay away. I was a fire, a flame too dangerous too contain. Anyone who flew too near to me would get burned.

"Well, I was considering staying outside for a little while longer, it's much too nice of a day to be inside," I squeaked, my nervousness straining my level voice.

"Any ideas on what we'd do?"

"No."

His deep red eyes searched mine for a clue, a single hint of what I was currently thinking. _You. _

The water around us had calmed to a stilling reflection of the blue sky, his arms slowly moving to my shoulders as he pulled me into his chest, grasping my hair as he lifted my face to his. And there it was, that one moment in my life where I was most happy, to be in his arms. I was standing in the midst of heaven. This was a new type of flying; for the first time, I was soaring.

When he broke the connection, I immediately wanted to kiss him again. I felt as if I couldn't breathe, he was my oxygen. Quickly, I grabbed his neck and forced his lips to mine, Brick craning his neck to reach me. His lips were so soft, so gentle, but they erupted fireworks within my stomach and sent my heart racing like a never-ending sprint. He reciprocated my sudden gesture by lifting me slightly out of the water, my feet now on their tiptoes. I was infatuated with him once again, and I knew I could never get enough of him. Like a moth to a light, I was attracted to him and it was impossible to turn away from a beacon of light. He guaranteed a safe haven for me, a sanctuary, and in return, I shared with him a piece of hell.

"You broke the deal," I said, finally pulling away and gazing into his wondrous eyes.

"To hell with the deal, you're impossible to resist," he responded, chuckling softly as he tucked my wet auburn hair behind my ears.

"I couldn't agree more."

Affectionately, he traced his fingers down my arms, then down past my breasts and to my sides. I immediately flinched at the touching of my cuts, and he removed his hand, but continued to roam my back up to my shoulder blades. His feathery touch ignited a quiet whisper of a moan, my back arching as my muscles contracted within my back, pushing my back into the grasp of his arms. His other hand then moved down my chest and was placed on my heart.

"You're so beautiful," Brick whispered.

"You're perfect," I replied, still in the midst of bliss as his fingers carved out the muscles of my apparent, perfectly, sculpted back. Of any part of my body that I was proud of, it would have been my back, for the reason being that it was the place where muscles were still clearly defined. The sharp defined strength emanated a powerful aura to my figure, and despite every other inch of my body being less intense, it was the one part of me that remained after this addiction to bones had started. And he knew it, anyone could see that the raw power of strength still existed somewhere inside me, always willing to fight, to never give up an already ending battle.

"I love you," he whispered.

Then his lips were on mine once again, and I allowed the moment to consume me, Brick's feather light touch engraving the perfect memory of the light that I never saw coming.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Hey readers, I know that this is becoming a very cliché story, but I enjoy writing it. It's fun, but I know it's kind of, I don't know what the word is, normal? Average? Typical teen romance? Call it what you will, but please be aware that not all stories have happily ever afters. And even in real life, there are no fairytale endings. And now, you're probably assuming that the end of this story ends in the worst way possible so it's not cliché. Maybe it is, maybe it isn't. (Don't you guys ever just want to kill the authors because they taunt you or change the storyline?) I guess you'll have to figure it out by reading on. Also, another point I wanted to make. I am only going to post a few more chapters to finish off the story, and then I'm going to take a break from writing fanfiction and work on my real novel. Keep reading on, please R&R!**


	10. Chapter 10

Night had quickly fallen, twilight setting an overcast black sky as far as the eye could possibly see. In a way, I was thankful, because it was the first time that I could see the stars. And my, you could see them sparkle for miles, like diamonds. They were treasures that should be cherished, for sometimes, what's precious to us may disappear.

"I'm coming to get you!"

I shrieked as Brick dove for me, his body sailing through the air until he came face to face with the grass. While he sputtered out a mouthful of green leaves, I couldn't help but collapse into a fit of giggles.

"You think that's funny, you'd better run while you still have the chance," he said, picking himself up off the ground, and then sprinting towards me.

"Catch me if you can," I yelled over the wind roaring in my ears, my body taking off, away from his open arms.

"I'm not losing to you again," he shouted.

The adrenaline spiked in my veins, my legs pounding against the ground as I left behind only the dust. Brick wasn't too far behind; I could hear his elongated stride bounding across the front yard.

"Don't look now, but face it Blossom, you're trapped," Berserk called, her stance now blocking my path at least a good few yards ahead of me.

_ I don't think so._

With a single leap, I felt myself fly over Berserk, my hair whipping behind my head as I flipped into a somersault. It was the art similar to one of a gymnast, a fragile, dainty dance with the air and ground as I landed on my tiptoes, like one of a ballerina.

"Got you!" Brick laughed as he wound his arms around my tiny waist, pulling me into his chest.

"Me too!" Berserk squealed, jumping atop us both and suddenly, we went rolling down the hill, all of us falling together.

Sweet music filled my ears, the three of us lying beside each other as a harmony of laughing arose among us. It was an orchestra of beautiful instruments, our melodies together creating a merry tune softer than any gentle flower, but louder than any distant thundering storm. In my garden of friends, I couldn't think of anyone more beautiful than the two of them. And together, in the eye of the storm, I knew I could never be safer. Our peals of laughter rang like bells, the pitches echoing into the night sky as the stars watched over us from a greater world. I would be among those glimmering lights someday, but not now, not when there were already shining sparks lying beside me, their great bursts of light emanating the newfound happiness that had disappeared so long ago.

"Look at the stars," I whispered, gazing up at the mystifying night sky.

"I know, they're beautiful," I heard Berserk say on my left.

"Nothing compares to you," Brick whispered in my ear as he took my hand silently, bringing it to his lips as he planted a soft kiss on my flesh.

I couldn't help but blush.

"Red's my favorite color," he said, touching a warm hand to my cheek as he smirked.

"I like the color hot pink," Berserk added.

"Why?" Brick and I asked in unison.

"Because I look sexy in it," she replied, and we laughed.

The image of Berserk wearing her bikini today was engraved into my mind, and I forced myself to remember. Every moment I had shared with them deserved to become a permanent memory.

"What about you?" Brick asked.

I then turned my head to face him, watching his eyes as I thought about all the colors of the rainbow, and that all of them pale in comparison. His eyes were a brilliant flame of orange, red, and yellow, and igniting a series of fireworks within my stomach. And above it all, his eyes were a deep brown color, so warm and welcoming, so safe and innocent.

His hand then cupped my cheek, his fingers touching my eyelids softly, running their tips along my long lashes. So kind, so pure, so beautiful, all of him wanted all of me. To my surprise, he removed his hand from my cheek and grasped my chin, turning it to face the sky.

And there it was, the most beautiful thing of them all, the sky. By now, the stars were speckles in the utter blackness, but yet, still reflected smiles down upon us. Gallantly as they came, they left, leaving all their joy and happiness to the world. But among the stars were fallen angels, all of which had left the pain and suffering. There were two types of beautiful in this world, and I didn't know which of them I was.

"Black."

"Why black?" Berserk asked, her face scrunching up in confusion.

"Because black is beautiful."

"But it's so dark, so sad, so dead," Brick said, and I could hear the worry.

"It's the one color that has made me feel the most alive," I finally said, turning to face him once more.

"But its such a depressing color," Berserk whined.

"I know, but it's the purest, most truthful color there is. I mean; all good things must come to an end, one way or another."

We laid in silence, absorbing the peace shared between us, a truce as we admired the sky from afar. Truly, I had meant it. The night sky has given me life for the past five years, and I became a walking form of its heavens. Yes, I believed that there was a heaven up there, but not of one with white fluffy clouds and great beams of light. When I envisioned heaven, I imagined a place fulfilling our greatest desire, a replica of my home in utter perfection. A utopia, I pictured, but with utopia came dystopia, which is what held me back from escaping this place and seeking out somewhere better. Because I already knew I was home, as long as I had these two to share it with. There was no place like home, and right here, right now, was my safe haven. We were living within an imperfect world at an imperfect time, but honestly, there was nothing more perfect than this moment.

"What animal would you want to be?" Berserk asked, breaking the ongoing silence.

"Why the random question?" Brick asked, scrunching his eyebrows together.

"Because I felt like asking, I mean you asked us what our favorite color was," she replied, keeping a straight face even as I turned to look at her.

"Fine, if I could pick any animal, I would be a snake. They are really cool and can move really fast," Brick said, pinching me lightly on the arm.

"But snakes are poisonous," I pouted.

"Blossom, not all snakes are poisonous," Berserk responded.

"I know, but a lot of them are, and you never know which until you get bit."

We fell quiet, waiting for someone to reply, but unfortunately, nobody did.

"I'd want to be a fish," Berserk finally said.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because they can swim fast, and they can hold their breath."

"Yeah, well, Blossom here is already one. She beat you to it," Brick snickered, burying his head into my shoulder.

_He's right; I have been holding my breath for years. Only now did I come up for air._

"I'd want to be a bird," I whispered.

"Why?" Berserk asked, turning to face me completely.

"Because birds are free; birds are beautiful."

We continued to watch the sky. At first, it seemed motionless, but when the stars began to fade, I could've sworn that I had seen them fly away. As if they had wings, what was precious to me simply vanished into the night. Like smoke on the water, all the light diminished by one, what held my center of gravity had shifted and I slowly began to revel in my lack of balance, falling into the arms of the Earth.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Sorry for the filler chapter guys, I know it's extremely annoying. The next one or two chapters are also going to be pretty short, but I promise you, it will be worth it. At least, I think it will be. I'm almost done with this story, maybe three or four more chapters. Please R&R, could use some feedback. Another note to add, this is the foundation for a later novel, which will have more scenes and depth. This story is also based on one of my real relationships (No, I'm not anorexic. I'm talking about the friendship triangle, so this is a very personalized story). Do you guys ever have fifty million story ideas going on in your head at once? Right now, I have over six stories with functional plots, but of course, they haven't been written yet. I want to write a trilogy, and then a duology (this fanfic is the basis for the first book). And maybe if I have time, rewrite a single book that I wrote a few years ago. Finally, a memoir, because I want to remember all the worst and best times in life. Sorry, I'm being weird right now, just thinking about so much all the time. Anyways, R&R!**


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